Makes Us Stronger
by Seshat0120
Summary: A sequel to What Doesn't Kill Us. Sam and Al spend time in Hawaii as Sam continues to recuperate from his injuries and they both come to terms with the emotional trauma of the accident.
1. Chapter 1

**Makes Us Stronger**

_by Seshat0120_

_Disclaimer: Quantum Leap and all related characters are owned by Belisarius Productions and Universal. No profit has been made off of the writing or distribution of this piece of fiction._

**Chapter 1**

Thursday, March 29, 1990

"_I'll see you back at the hotel then," Sam replied._

_Al turned to head toward Constitution Avenue to look for a cab while Sam started to cross 17__th__ Street heading toward the Washington Monument. Al turned to look back to Sam and saw that the younger man was crossing the street with his head tucked down to keep the rain off of his face and his hands in his pockets. In that position he was unable to see the car that came speeding around the corner headed right at him._

"_Sam!" Al yelled out in warning._

_Sam had partially turned toward Al when he heard his name yelled. Unfortunately, Al's warning shout didn't come with enough time for Sam to get out of the way of oncoming car._

_Al watched sickened as the car struck his friend; his body rolling up the hood of the car and striking the windshield with enough force to shatter it before rolling off to land in the street. The car kept going without any hesitation but the maniacal laughter of the driver seemed to linger._

_Al stood frozen to the spot for a second before running over to where his friend lay in the street praying the entire way that when he got there he'd find him still alive. He came to a stop and knelt down next to the broken and twisted body of his best friend. Reaching out a hand he rolled him over and sucked in a breath when he saw the dead, lifeless eyes. Blood poured out from so many different wounds he didn't know where to stanch the bleeding. First he had to know, though, know if Sam was dead or alive. He pressed trembling fingers to the cooling flesh of Sam's neck moving them around seeking out the thrum of life but it was no longer there. Throwing back his head he screamed his denial to the heavens._

_Suddenly Sam jack-knifed into a sitting position. The lifeless eyes sought out Al's locking on them and drawing him in. A bloodied hand lifted pointing at Al accusingly. It's your fault. You were supposed to protect me but now I'm dead. It's all your fault._

_Al could only stare in horror as the broken and dead body of his friend came to life accusing him of his death. "It's all your fault," Sam said again. "I'm dead because of you."_

_Al tired to back away, to climb to his feet and run from the apparition but Sam raised one blood coated hand and grabbed him by the forearm and held him in place. "It's all your fault," he hissed, "and I'll never let you forget. You promised. YOU PROMISED!"_

_Al finally broke free and quickly climbed to his feet running as fast as he could but Sam was suddenly in front of him again. His bloodied face twisted in a mask of accusation and hatred. "It's all your fault," he hissed again as his hand jerked out lightening quick, again grabbing Al's forearm and staining it with his blood._

With a quickly indrawn breath Al sat bolt upright in bed. The same dream had been haunting him for over a week now since Sam had been released from the hospital. Unconsciously he scrubbed his arm where the dream-Sam had grabbed at him before looking down at it. He half expected to see a bloodied handprint there.

Slipping quietly from the bed he crossed the small space between his bed and Sam's and looked down at the sleeping man. He had to assure himself that Sam was still here and still alive and watched him breathe slowly. Like he had the first night Sam was out of the hospital he knelt down by the bed watching the slow rise and fall of his chest while resisting the urge to reach out and touch Sam to assure himself that he was still warm with life.

As he knelt there just watching he got the feeling that something wasn't right, that something was off somehow. After a few more minutes he was finally able to put his finger on what it was. Sam's breathing didn't sound right. It had a slightly raspy quality to it that hadn't been there the last week. Rising to his feet, Al chanced waking Sam and rested the palm of his hand on his forehead and frowned when he felt it warmer than it should be.

His touch was enough to wake Sam.

"Al?' Sam asked blinking up at him blearily. "What are you doing?"

"Your breathing sounded funny," Al explained. He neglected to mention anything about the dream. "I think you might be coming down with something again, you're kind of warm."

"My breathing sounded funny?" Sam echoed back. He was never at his sharpest when first awakened and tonight was no exception.

'Yeah, kinda raspy. I think it might be a good idea to get you checked out." Al was trying his best to keep calm even though all of his instincts were telling him to bodily pull Sam from the bed and get him to the closest hospital.

"You wanna go to a hospital or something 'cause my breathing sounds raspy? Are you nuts?" The longer he was awake the more coherent Sam became and he was none too pleased with Al for waking him up. "You woke me up for this?"

"I didn't mean to wake you up, Sam," Al tried to pacify him. "You sounded funny when you were breathing and I wanted to check to see if you were feverish – which you are, by the way. I didn't intend for you to wake up but since you did maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to get you checked out."

"Al, it's," Sam leaned over to look at the alarm clock between the beds, "it's 3:30 in the morning. I don't want to go anywhere but back to sleep which you should too. You're starting to imagine things. I'm fine, there's nothing wrong with me." Sam had no sooner voiced his denial before he started to cough.

"I don't like the sound of that," Al said. "What if you're coming down with pneumonia again?"

"This isn't the first time I've coughed since I got out of the hospital," Sam said trying to remain reasonable. "Don't start borrowing trouble that isn't there."

"I'm not borrowing trouble, Sam. You're right it's not the first time you've coughed since you got out but it is the first time it's sounded like a dog's bark and it is the first time you've had a fever and it is the first time your breathing's been raspy like this."

Sam looked incredulously at Al in the dim light of the room. "You're just not gonna give this up, are you? Fine," he said throwing the blanket back and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Let's go to the hospital if it's gonna make you happy and get it done and over with. Let's just sit there for hours on end so they can tell me nothing's wrong. You're not gonna let me go back to sleep unless we do. We just better be back in time to make our flight at 10:00 and I hope you know what hospital's the closest to LAX because I have no clue."

Five hours later the two of them walked out of the emergency department at UCLA Medical Center. Tucked into Al's pocket were prescriptions that needed to be filled. He wasn't happy when the emergency department doctor had confirmed his fears. Sam didn't have pneumonia but he did have a respiratory infection and if it wasn't taken care of he'd be looking at another go round with pneumonia. He'd been prescribed an antibiotic as well as an inhaler and cough suppressant. The doctor had also given him an injection.

"It's not my fault," Al defended himself as he walked alongside Sam. "Better we find out now when it's not so bad than later when it's something worse and you get stuck in the hospital."

"Just drop it Al, ok." Sam stopped short and faced him. "You just had to tell him we were flying out to Hawaii tomorrow…today, didn't you? You just couldn't keep your mouth shut about that."

"What? I was supposed just let you get on that plane without knowing if it was putting you at risk?"

In addition to the prescriptions, when Al had asked if it would be safe for Sam to fly in the morning the doctor had unequivocally said no. The antibiotics would need at least 24 hours to get into Sam's system and start having any kind of an effect. At first, considering Sam's recent hospitalization, the doctor had wanted to admit him. Sam had argued against that. Instead the doctor had given him the prescriptions and put him on bed rest for the duration.

"Risk? Come on, Al, I'm a doctor. I think I'd know if there were any risks involved with flying, wouldn't I?"

Al didn't respond right away as he led the two of them to a waiting taxi. He put out his hand for Sam's cane while Sam got himself into the vehicle. Once he'd shut the door on Sam's side and circled around to the other side and got in and asked the driver to take them back to the airport Hilton did he finally answer Sam. "Yeah, Sam, risk. Like your lung collapsing again while we we're in mid-air and you suffocating and dying. It just didn't seem like a good idea to me to bring a dead body home to your mother instead of her son. Face it, Kid, right now you're not the most reliable source when it comes to diagnosing yourself."

Sam took a deep breath, or at least as deep as he could without setting off a coughing fit. "Ok, Al. I understand that but listen to me, I'll give you a day of bed rest and that's it. Tomorrow morning I'm getting on a plane to Hawaii with or without you."

One look at the determined set of Sam's face and Al knew he'd do exactly what he said. "Fine, Sam. Once we get back I'll make arrangements for a flight out tomorrow but your butt is in that bed all day today and you do everything I say or so help me, I'll ship your ass back to the hospital myself."

"Fine, Al. Whatever." Sam turned his face to the window effectively cutting off the conversation and anything else Al might have said and stayed that way until they arrived back at the hotel.

"When you're done changing our flights," Sam said once they were in the room, "don't forget to call my mother and tell her you didn't think it was a good idea for me to fly today and you find a way to tell her without worrying her." He leaned the cane up against the wall near the bed and sat down heavily on it toeing off his sneakers before lying down and pulling the blanket up. "Since we're not going anywhere, I'm gonna see if I can catch up on the sleep you so kindly robbed me of."

"Great," Al muttered from his place near the door. "This is going to be a fun day."

He rummaged in his carryon and pulled out their flight information and sat down at the table with the phone to make all the necessary calls. He glanced back over to Sam but he'd rolled over so his back was to Al. Sighing Al picked up the phone and started to dial.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Two hours after they got back to the hotel there was a knock on the door and Al got up from where he'd been watching the TV to answer it. It was the pharmacy delivering Sam's prescriptions. Al thanked the deliveryman paying him and giving him a tip before shutting the door. He ripped open the bag and pulled out the bottles inside reading the labels on them. According to the warning sticker on the side of the antibiotic Sam would have to eat something before he could take it. On the side of the cough suppressant was the by now familiar warning not to drive or operate heavy machinery.

Grabbing the room keycard off the desk and checking his pockets from some change Al headed out of the room to the vending machines at the end of the corridor. He gave the contents of them a cursory look before depositing the necessary change and selecting a package of peanut butter crackers and a can of ginger ale.

Back in the room he put the crackers and ginger ale down on the table between the two beds and retrieved a glass from the counter in the bathroom as well as the bottle with the antibiotic and put those on the table as well. He settled down gently on the side of bed and shook Sam's shoulder softly calling his name. It took a few calls before Sam finally rolled over onto his back and woke up.

"Now what?" he asked groggily.

"The pharmacy just delivered your new meds and you need to take the antibiotic. C'mon and sit up." Al helped Sam to sit up, stuffing pillows behind his back to support him. Once Sam was sitting he grabbed the package of crackers and ripped them open. "Here, eat these."

"Why?" Sam asked. "I thought you said I had to take the antibiotic."

"You do," Al explained. "The bottle says you need to take it with food, though, so you don't get an upset stomach so start eating those."

"I'm not hungry," Sam told Al as he pulled one of the crackers from the package.

"Just eat them anyway. Besides, you haven't had anything to eat since last night. You should be hungry."

Sam ate most of the package of crackers washing them down with the ginger ale. Satisfied that he'd eaten enough, Al handed him the antibiotic which he swallowed without question.

"Can I go back to sleep now?" Sam asked once he'd swallowed the pill.

"Yeah," Al sighed. "You can go back to sleep now." He pulled the pile of pillows from behind Sam helping him to lie down and tucked the blanket in around him. He brushed his hand over his forehead and cheek. Although Sam was no warmer than he'd been early that morning he also wasn't any cooler. The doctor had said it would take 24 hours before they'd start seeing any effect from the antibiotic.

Sam was asleep again almost immediately. Al gathered up the remains from the crackers and the ginger ale and deposited them in the trashcan. Since they'd left DC the day before yesterday things hadn't been exactly easy.

Sam had insisted that he didn't need any pain medication before the flight out of Dulles to Chicago. What he hadn't counted on was how cramped he'd be on the plane. Even given the fact that they'd been upgraded to business class there still hadn't been enough room for Sam to really stretch his leg out and, consequently, he'd been in great deal of pain by the time plane touched down in Chicago. To complicate matters even more, he'd put the bottle of pain relievers in his checked luggage so he couldn't even take anything until they'd retrieved their bags. At least when Al suggested they get a wheelchair to get Sam through the airport he hadn't complained.

By the time they got to the hotel the pain killer had finally taken effect and Sam had ended up sleeping for the rest of the night. He only woke up long enough to eat a little bit of the dinner that room service had brought up before falling right back to sleep.

The next morning when they headed back to O'Hare to catch their flight to LAX, Al had made sure that not only did Sam take a painkiller before they checked out of the hotel but that the bottle was securely in his pocket should Sam need anymore before the arrived in LA. They'd again been upgraded to business class, Sam's injuries were proving good for something, and this time Sam had slept through the majority of the flight. Although he was complaining of some soreness by the time they landed, it was no where near what it had been the day before. Al had hoped that that was a good sign and that the trip would get easier from there. Now he just hoped they'd be able to complete the trip before the week was up.

Sam didn't sleep for more than 15-20 minutes before pushing himself up to sit in bed. "I feel horrible," he complained in a hoarse voice. "This is all your fault," he told Al fixing him with a baleful stare.

"My fault?" Al asked surprised. "How the hell is it my fault that you picked up some bug?"

Sam brought his right leg up and hugged his arms around it resting his forehead on his knee. "Because," he said before stopping to cough, "I didn't feel like this until you said I was sick."

"So that makes it my fault?" Al asked.

Sam picked his head up resting his chin on his knee so he could see Al. "Guess that sounds kind of unreasonable."

"Just a bit," Al agreed. "You probably picked something up on one of the flights. You know how viruses can spread in those airplane cabins."

"I don't have a virus, Al. They don't treat a virus with an antibiotic. This is bacterial," Sam explained.

"I know that, Sam. I was just meant generally. Virus, bacteria, whatever; they have a habit of spreading on an airplane in that closed environment. You're already still weak from everything else that you've had so you were a prime target for whatever it is you've got."

"I guess," Sam agreed. "It doesn't make me feel any better. Sorry I was a little short with you earlier."

"No problem, Kid," Al said waving off the apology. "I know how you can be a bear when someone wakes you up."

"Still that's no excuse," Sam said as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Were you able to reschedule our flights tomorrow?"

"I did. There's some good news with that and some bad news," Al said handing Sam his cane.

"Do I even want to know what the bad news is?" Sam asked heading in the direction of the bathroom.

"Well, it's not too, too bad," Al began to explain. "It's an 8:30 flight tomorrow instead of the 10:00 we were originally on."

"Could be worse," Sam said pushing the door closed behind him.

When he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later he picked up where the conversation had left off. "So what's the good news, then?"

"I was able to get us on a direct flight instead of one with a layover. We'll be in Honolulu by 11:30."

"Did you talk to Mom?" Sam asked as he wearily lowered himself back onto the bed.

Al grabbed the cane from him and leaned it up against the wall and helped Sam to settle back in bed. "It's still pretty early in Hawaii. I was going to call her in a little bit. Don't worry," he said cutting off whatever Sam had been about to say. "I'll just tell her you need another day to rest up after two days of flying. I'll make sure not to worry her although I think just telling her we're going to be delayed for a day is gonna do that."

"Just make sure you don't worry her too much, Al. She doesn't need that – it's not good for her."

"You have my word," Al assured him pulling the blankets up over his shoulders.

"I'm gonna try to go back to sleep now," Sam said burrowing down into the blankets.

"That's probably the best thing for you," Al agreed.

Sam slept off and on for most of the day and seemed, to Al's untrained eye, to get worse not better. Each time he was awake he kept repeating adamantly that they'd be leaving in the morning.

Al had spoken with Thelma explaining their delay to her. He'd assured her that Sam was fine, just tired from two days of flying and in need of a day to just rest before getting on a cramped plane again. Al didn't think for one minute, though, that he'd put anything by her. He had a pretty good idea that she knew something was wrong. She'd be finding out soon enough, anyway, Al figured since he was under no illusion that Sam would be miraculously over whatever bug he'd picked up by the time they landed tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Friday, March 30, 2006

There were many things in life that Al enjoyed. Watching the sun finish rising while in a cab on the way to the airport wasn't one of those things Sadly, that's what he found himself doing. Had he had his way he and Sam would still be checked into the hotel and not because he didn't want to be on his way to the airport at 6:45 in the morning but because he was still convinced that Sam shouldn't be flying but should be back in bed resting and getting better.

True he was no worse this morning than he had been the previous morning but the point was…he was no better. Sam wouldn't hear anything of staying in LA for another day. He'd adamantly informed Al that they would be on their flight to Honolulu and that was the end of that, no arguments.

After checking them in and getting Sam settled in a seat at their boarding gate Al set off to find them both something to eat for breakfast. Sam had claimed that he wasn't hungry but he needed to take the antibiotic and he couldn't do that on an empty stomach. When Al came back over with bagels and juice Sam was dozing off in the chair.

"Hey, Sam. Wake up," Al said shaking his knee.

"Hmm…I guess I sort of fell asleep," Sam said straightening from the slouch he'd slipped into.

"Yeah, I guess you did. Here, eat this so you can take the antibiotic."

Sam took the proffered bagel and started eating it. He didn't have the energy to argue with Al about eating and simply figured it would be easier to eat even he wasn't hungry than to argue about it. In the end it was an argument he knew Al would end up winning so, really, what was the use in bothering.

Sam dutifully ate the majority of the bagel and then swallowed both his antibiotic and pain med when Al handed them to him. Dr. Childs had switched his pain meds from the Percocet he'd been taking to Tylenol 3 since it wasn't quite as strong. It still tended to pack a punch, though, especially since he wasn't feeling well, and shortly had him dozing in his seat again.

"Sam, time to wake up, Kid," Al softly called as their flight was called to board.

"I fell asleep again?" Sam asked rising from his seat and grabbing the cane. He leaned on it heavily, his limp more pronounced in direct relation to how tired he was.

"You did," Al agreed shouldering his carry-on and grabbing Sam's. They're flight this morning was sold out so there had been no possibility of being bumped up to business class. They were, however, allowed to board first since it took Sam a little longer to move.

Locating their seats Al placed his carry on in the overhead compartment and dropped Sam's onto one of the aisle seats. He unzipped it and pulled out the pouch on top that contained all of Sam's prescriptions and then re-zipped the carry on and put it with his. Grabbing Sam's cane from him he also stowed that in the overhead compartment as well before squeezing by Sam to the window seat. Since they were on the right side of the plane and Sam was in the aisle seat, he'd at least be able to stretch his leg out into the aisle during the flight.

As soon as they were seated one of the flight attendants came over to see if they needed anything.

"No, we're all set right now, Ma'am," Al assured her. "Do you think my friend could get a pillow and blanket, though?"

"Sure, I'll be right back with them."

Al's goal for the flight had been to keep Sam as comfortable as possible until the plane landed and then get him to Katie's house and tucked into bed where he could get the rest he needed. He'd spoken with Katie the night before and let her know that Sam had come down with something. She planned on meeting them at the airport but was going to convince Thelma to wait at home for them to get there. They'd both decided it would be better for the reunion between mother and son to take place privately – especially since Sam was under the weather.

"Here you are, sir," the flight attendant said coming back with the requested pillow and blanket. "If you need anything else, just ring."

Sam and Al both thanked her and she went off to take care of the other passengers now boarding.

"I think I'm just gonna take a little nap," Sam said as he put the pillow behind him. Al helped him to spread the blanket out, tucking it in behind his shoulders, and making sure the seat belt was in buckled over it. Sam was sound asleep before the plane even taxied down the runway.

They hit more turbulence on the flight than Al really would have cared to have and he was surprised when Sam continued to sleep through it all. He gently lay a hand on his forehead and frowned when it felt like not only was Sam still carrying a low-grade fever but that it seemed to have gone up a bit. Getting on the plane to Hawaii had most definitely not been one of their smarter moves. It was too late to go back and undo it, though.

Sam ended up sleeping through the entire flight and it wasn't until the plane was going in for it's landing that Al finally nudged him to wake him up.

"Where are we?" Sam asked as he tried to stretch the kinks out of his neck that he'd acquired from sleeping for so long in an awkward position.

"We're here. The plane's starting its descent now."

"Already?" Sam asked in surprise. "I slept through the whole flight."

"Like a log. You didn't even flinch when we went through the turbulence and that was pretty bad. How are you feeling?"

"I'm ok," Sam attempted to reassure Al. "Ok, I feel like something the cat dragged in," he admitted when he saw the skeptical look on Al's face. "I'll be glad to get to Katie's. This might sound strange considering I just woke up but lying down in a real bed sounds like the best thing right about now."

"It's probably is the best thing for you. I'm not sure if those antibiotics you're on are doing anything for you."

"They need a chance to start to work." Sam would have said more but before he could he started coughing. It was a raw, painful cough and it reminded Al of the cough Sam had had in the hospital. He rubbed his hand up and down his back like he had then until the cough finally abated.

"Well, at least you waited until the end of the flight to try to cough up a lung."

Once the plane had landed Sam and Al remained in their seats until the rest of the passengers had collected their carry on and left the plane. It would have been pretty foolish for them to try to exit with the rest considering Sam still wasn't moving very fast.

When Sam reached out to take his carryon from Al, Al nudged him ahead. "You've got enough to carry just getting yourself off the plane. I'll take care of this."

When they exited the jetway into the waiting area of gate Sam immediately saw Katie standing off to the side watching looking anxiously for them among the passengers that had already disembarked.

"Katie!" Sam called out rushing over to her as fast as he was able.

As soon as she heard her brother's voice Katie's head swung around in their direction and she hurried over to them. As soon as she was in arm's reach Sam swept her up into a bone-crushing hug. Al hung back to give the siblings their privacy.

"God, it's so good to see you," Sam said when he finally let go of his sister and stepped back.

"I thought I'd missed you when everyone else got off."

"Yeah, well, I'm still moving a lot slower than everyone else is, I guess."

"Don't let him fool, you," Al said as he approached the two and dropped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "He just wanted to make a dramatic entrance all by himself."

"Where's Mom?" Sam asked looking around for his mother.

"She's waiting for you at home. I figured you'd probably rather skip her fussing over you in public."

"Oh, ok. But she's ok, right?" Sam asked nervously.

"She's fine, Sam. You'd hardly even know anything happened to her unlike you." Katie took a long hard look at Sam and then shot Al a concerned look that didn't go unnoticed.

"I'll be ok, Katie. It's just a cold," Sam explained correctly interpreting his sister's look.

Al took a look at Sam himself and tried to see him as his sister was seeing him. He'd grown used to Sam's appearance over the last several weeks and had forgotten that to someone who hadn't seen Sam in a while the difference would be startling. Whereas Al had noticed that Sam had started to gain back some of the weight he'd lost during his hospitalization, Katie only saw how much he'd lost since she'd seen him some months ago. Where Al had grown used to the pale features and the dark shadows under Sam's eyes, Katie wasn't used to seeing these physical reminders of his injuries and recent illness. Al did have to concede the fact to himself that the respiratory infection that Sam currently had didn't help how he looked any.

"I know you'll be ok," Katie answered brightly, maybe a bit too brightly. "What better place to rest and recuperate than here in paradise with Mom's good cooking."

"I'm not here to recuperate and I'm looking forward to your mom's cooking," Al chimed in. Let's go get our luggage and head out of here.

Just before they left to retrieve their luggage Katie reached out giving Sam another quick hug. "I'm so glad you're here, Big Brother."

"Me too, Katie," Sam said hugging her back. "Me too."

Al led the way toward the baggage claim area with Sam and Katie following along behind him chatting happily.

"Hey, hang on a second, Al" Sam called out from behind.

"What's up, Kid?" Al asked after he'd stopped and retraced his steps back to where Sam and Katie had stopped.

"Nothing. I just need to make a quick detour," Sam explained gesturing towards the men's room they were in front of them. "You two can go on ahead and I'll meet you in baggage claim if you want."

"No," Al disagreed. "We'll wait for you right here. No sense in us getting split up if we don't have to."

"I'll be right out," Sam said before disappearing through the doorway.

"Ok, what's wrong with him?" Katie asked as soon as Sam was out of sight. Her earlier smile had faded away and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Wrong?" Al asked. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean, Admiral Calavicci, is that you've been telling us…he's been telling us that he's recovering fine but he looks like a good wind could knock him over. What's going on that you haven't told us about?"

"He is recovering, Katie. Trust me. If you'd seen him just a week ago you'd know I'm telling the truth. He was hurt pretty bad when that car hit him and pneumonia didn't help but he's been doing great since he was released from the hospital. To tell you the truth, he's been looking so much better the last couple of days it didn't even occur to me anymore how shaky he still looks."

"I hope you're telling me the truth here Al 'cause if you're not Mom's gonna get it out of you. She has a very low tolerance bs meter and right now Sam looks like hell."

"I know, Honey. That's just because he picked up some bug. He's taking antibiotics for that and the doctor said he should start feeling better by tomorrow." It was a small lie, Al admitted to himself. The doctor had said the antibiotic should start taking affect in 24 hours and it had been over that without any noticeable difference. Al chalked it up to the travel and that once Sam had time to rest he'd be fine.

"It was really bad, wasn't it?" Katie asked. "I mean if you're telling me he's looking good now it must have been really bad."

Al looked down to the ground for a moment unable to meet the eyes of Sam's sister. Finally he looked up at her. "There were more than a few times I thought we were going to lose him. He's kept fighting, though, and he's going to make a complete recovery."

Anything Katie might have said in return was cut off as Sam reappeared.

"You two have talking about me," Sam immediately said on seeing the expression on the two of them.

"What makes you think that, brother dear?" Katie asked linking her arm through Sam's free arm and leading him away.

"You both look like thunder clouds, that's why. And you looked like you were going to swallow your tongue when I walked out."

"Ok, you got us dead to rights," Katie confessed. "We were talking about you but it's not what you think."

"Oh no, just what was it then?" Sam challenged.

Katie floundered for a moment not sure what to answer when Al came up on the other side of Sam and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I was telling her all about those gorgeous nurses you had in the hospital and how you refused to take my advice."

Katie breathed a mental sigh of relief at Al's save. "Really, Sam," she chided her brother, "You have to loosen up sometimes and have a little fun. That advice that Al gave you couldn't have been all bad."

Sam allowed himself to play along with their game protesting that it would have been unethical to get involved with any of his nurses all the way down to the baggage claim area.

Since they were among the last passengers to get there, their luggage was already waiting for them. Al quickly retrieved it and piled it on a luggage cart. Katie led the way out of the airport encouraging the two of them to wait just outside the door while she went to get the car from parking. Soon the luggage was loaded in the trunk and they were on their way out of the airport parking lot and on their way to Katie's home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Sam chose to sit in the backseat on the ride from the airport to Katie's house giving him the opportunity to stretch his leg out along the seat. It was about a 20-30 minute drive and Sam drifted off into a restless doze before they'd even cleared the airport itself.

"So how ok is he, Al?" Katie asked after checking in the rearview mirror to make sure her brother was out.

Al turned to look over the backseat at the sleeping man himself before answering. "I'll be honest with you, Katie, he was doing a whole lot better a couple of days ago. Whatever this is that he picked up, he'd be handling it a whole lot better if he wasn't still recovering from everything else."

"Should I be driving to a hospital instead of home?"

Before Al had a chance to answer a groggy, irritated voice came from the backseat. "No, you shouldn't be heading for a hospital and I'd really appreciate it if the two of you wouldn't talk about me like I wasn't here."

"Sorry, Sam," Katie apologized. "I'm just worried about you, that's all."

"I'll be fine," Sam sighed. "Everyone needs to stop worrying about me and treating me like I'm made of porcelain or something."

Neither Al nor Katie had a response and the three lapsed into silence. It didn't take long before Sam once again dozed off.

"Sam?" Katie questioned and when he didn't answer repeated his name louder.

"Guess he fell back to sleep," Al suggested.

"I suppose he's been doing that a lot lately?"

"Yeah but it's nothing to really be concerned about. Both Dr. Gleason and Dr. Childs had said it would take a while for him to build his strength up again."

"You know Mom's not going to buy his 'just a cold, I'll be fine' routine."

Al watched the scenery pass by outside the window before answering. "I didn't think she would. I think he's going to tolerate her fussing a lot better, though."

Katie again looked at her brother through the rearview mirror. "He always did," she said softly and thoughtfully.

The rest of the drive was completed in near silence with small talk every now and then. Katie really wanted to quiz Al more about Sam's condition but didn't want to take the risk of him waking up and hearing them talking again. She knew from experience that he could be like a bear with a sore paw when he was sick and had a feeling this time wasn't an exception to the rule.

Finally she turned into the driveway of the house. It was a good-sized single-family with a beachfront view. Not the kind of home one would expect someone with a Naval salary to afford. Shortly after Jim and Katie were married he'd received a sizable inheritance from his grandfather's estate and they'd chosen to invest it in the house.

"Better wake him up," Katie said when she saw Thelma come out of the house as soon as the car pulled into the driveway.

Al glanced over to where Thelma was waiting and it seemed to him as if she were nearly vibrating in place from having to wait until the car had stopped. He leaned over the backseat nudging Sam's shoulder. "Hey, time to wake up, Sam. We're here and your Mom's looking pretty anxious to see you."

"Huh?" Sam asked blinking his eyes open and pulling himself up straight in the seat.

"We're here," Al reiterated, "and your Mom looks pretty anxious to see you."

"Mom?" Sam whispered pulling off the seatbelt and dropping his hand down to the door latch and popping the door open.

Al also opened his door and got out to help Sam out of the car. Once he was sure he had his balance, Al stepped out of his way. He stayed back near the car to give mother and son a chance for privacy. Katie also stepped out of the car but remained standing just inside the open door.

"Mom," Sam said again louder moving as fast as he could toward his mother. She'd also started moving in his direction as soon as he got out of the car.

As soon as Sam was within arm's reach of his mother he dropped the cane and wrapped her in a bear hug burying his face along her neck and shoulder. "Mama," he half-sobbed, "I didn't think…"

"Shhh, Sammy, it's ok," Thelma soothed as she hugged Sam back with equal fervor. One hand found its way to the back of his head and she started to stroke her fingers through his hair.

From his viewpoint it looked to Al that Thelma had tears in her eyes. He couldn't hear anymore of what was exchanged between mother and son. Glancing over toward Katie he saw her wipe tears from her own eyes as she witnessed the heartfelt and emotional reunion between her mother and brother.

Finally the two broke apart and Thelma held Sam at arms' length from her. "Look at you," she said with fond disapproval. "You're skin and bones. We have to get some weight back on you."

"I'm sure a little of your cooking and it'll be fine, Mom," Sam said with a small laugh.

"You're sick, too," she said with concern as she brushed her hand over his forehead. "Don't you be telling me you're fine or that you're just tired or that it's a cold. You're sick." The tone of finality in her voice clearly alerted all in her hearing that the matter wasn't up for debate.

"Yes, Ma'am," Sam agreed hanging his head down.

"Let's get you in the house and I'm going to tuck you into bed and make you some chicken soup. Then you're going to rest and get well." Thelma grabbed Sam's arm and started to lead him toward the house. He took one step and stumbled without the support of the cane he'd dropped. Al saved him from tumbling to the ground by quickly running over and grabbing him by the arm to support him until he regained his balance.

"You're not ready for a solo flight yet, Kid," he said once Sam was standing solidly again. He bent down a grabbed the cane that had tumbled to the ground forgotten and handed it to Sam.

"Thanks," the younger man softly said.

Thelma stood beside Sam her face a mask of shock and one hand over her mouth when she realized that he'd almost fallen. She hadn't really paid much heed to his dependence on the cane or the heavy limp he walked with when he'd first gotten out of the car. She'd been more intent on simply seeing him and holding him. Now she realized just how bad his injuries were and the price he was still paying.

"It's ok, Mom," Sam comforted her when he saw her face. "I just forgot for second, that's all. I'm getting better and stronger everyday." He wrapped his free arm around her and started to lead her in the direction of the house. "C'mon, let's get inside and you can start feeding me your good cooking. Thelma wrapped her arm around his waist and taking just a bit of his wight and walked with him into the house.

"He's still got a ways to go, doesn't he?" Katie asked from where she was still standing by the car.

"Hmm…yeah, he does," Al said pulling his attention from the departing backs of mother and son.

"I'm not worried that he's not going to get there," Katie said confidently shutting the driver's door and coming around to the trunk to help Al pull out the luggage.

"Why's that?" Al asked resting a hand on a suitcase.

"'Cause I don't think you'll let him give up," she said matter-of-factly before reaching to pull out a suitcase herself.

Her words caught Al off guard for a second but he quickly recovered. "Hey, you shouldn't be pulling these out and carrying them in your condition. You go on with your mother and brother and I'll be right in."

"I don't have a 'condition', Al," Katie complained but she did let go of the suitcase she'd grabbed. "I'm pregnant. It's not a condition and it's not a disease and I'm not made out of china. I wish everyone would remember that. And I may as well talk to a brick wall," she finished when she saw that Al was less than impressed with her tirade. "I better go in and get lunch started before, Mom starts cooking what looks like a Thanksgiving dinner," she sighed and headed off into the house.

Al shook his head slowly from side to side and finished pulling the suitcase out of the trunk of the car. He had a feeling that it was going to be an interesting couple of weeks with all of the Beckett's together and trying to fuss over each other.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

When Al came into the house with the first load of luggage, he saw that Sam had been settled on the living room couch and was looking out the window at the beach beyond. He put the suitcase and carry-on he was carrying down by the door and walked over to the couch and looked out at the view himself.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Sam said glancing over to Al and then back to the window.

"Yeah, it is. Your sister lucked out with this location."

From the kitchen the sounds of pots and pans clanging could be heard.

"I better go get the rest of our stuff in," Al said before going back out to the car.

Al had no sooner left than Katie came in and sat down beside Sam on the couch. "I never get tired of looking out at the ocean. It's a whole lot different from the cornfields we saw growing up."

"Yeah, it is." A particularly loud clang came from the kitchen. "What's Mom up to?" Sam asked quizzically.

Katie smiled and let out a little laugh. "I hope you're hungry. Mom's making her chicken soup."

"She shouldn't be doing all that work," Sam said struggling to push up from the couch.

"Woah," Katie said pushing Sam back down. "She sees you off this couch and she just might tie you down to it."

Katie had gotten in the house just as Thelma settled Sam on the couch with explicit directions that he was not to get off of it unless it was to heed the call of nature or she told him he could get up. Both siblings knew when their mother meant business.

"I know but she still should't be doing all of that. She should be resting herself," Sam argued.

"You've got to be kidding me. I gave up on that days ago. I think she's healthier than all of us combined. You, on the other hand, look like you could fall over with much provocation. You better do what Mom says if you don't want a repeat of when you were younger."

"Now that sounds like a good story," Al said. He'd come back in just in time to hear Katie's reminder.

"No, it's not," Sam quickly said shooting his sister a dirty look.

"Oh, I don't know," Katie mischievously said. "I think it's a pretty good one."

"Katie," Sam responded in a low warning. A giggle from Katie and raised eyebrows from Al were all that Sam's warning garnered.

"If it's getting that kind of reaction out of him, I really want to hear it now," Al said as he came over to sit on the end of the couch that was perpendicular to where Sam and Katie sat.

"It happened when Sam was 12, I think," Katie began ignoring her brother's warning look. "What'd you have?" Katie asked looking over to Sam.

"Pneumonia and yes, I was 12," he grudgingly answered. Seeing the look on Al's face he added, "I don't get sick a lot but when I do I like to do it big. Guess I am an over-achiever."

"You can say that again," Al agreed.

"Well, Sam would not stay in bed," Katie continued. "It didn't matter that that's exactly what Dr. Berger said he had to do or how much Mom and Dad both told him to stay put. Sam kept getting up because he wanted to go to school."

"Only you," Al said interrupting Katie and earning a dirty look of his own from Sam.

"He was driving Mom crazy and she threatened to tie him to the bed."

"I take it the threat didn't work," Al commented.

"Oh, no. Mom threatened and Sam still got up and tried to get dressed for school. Mom came up with something much more devious than simply tying him down," Katie continued. Her smile broadened.

"Katie," Sam again said in low warning.

Ignoring her brother Katie forged ahead. "She put an extra quilt on his bed to keep him warm and then made him take all his clothes off and get into bed. Sam was too embarrassed to get out of bed after that," Katie finished with a laugh.

"So, now I know the secret to keep you in place," Al laughed. When Sam's face turned red, Al laughed even harder.

"Katie, are you tormenting your brother already?" Thelma asked coming into the room wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

"What makes you ask that, Mom?" Katie inquired trying to keep the laugh out of her voice and her face schooled to innocence.

"Hmmm…let's see. Sam resembles a lobster that's been boiled and you the Admiral seem to be having a tough time keeping a straight face. The only thing I can think of that would have that result is if you were tormenting Sam and embarrassing him."

"Mom, I just don't see how you can think I'd do that when Sam's sick and hurt," Katie defended trying to maintain her innocence but breaking down into giggles when Sam threw one of the throw pillows at her and it hit her a glancing blow to the head before falling harmlessly to the floor.

"Really, Mrs. Beckett, Katie was just giving me pointers on keeping Sam in one place. Whoever thought just taking his clothes could do that," Al added coming to Katie's rescue.

Thelma tried to hide her own smile but didn't quite succeed as the memory of son, sick but too embarrassed to get out of bed came to mind. "It does work quite nicely to keep him in place," she said before turning her gaze to her son. "Don't think you're too old that I won't do it now either if you don't stay put and get some rest."

"Mo-om," Sam said shocked.

"Don't you 'Mom' me. I know you and I know you're going to try to pretend you're just dandy and push yourself too hard. I'm not going to let that happen." She paused looking around at the others in the room. "None of us is going to let that happen." She sat down on the arm of the couch near Sam putting an arm around him and encouraging him to lean against her before bending down to kiss him on the forehead. Sam allowed her to fuss over him and even seemed to welcome it.

Spying the luggage still over by the front door Thelma stood up and came around to the front of the couch. "Why don't you show the Admiral where to put his luggage and Sam's while I spend some time visiting with my son," she said to Katie.

"Sometimes I wonder who the lady of the house is," Katie mumbled to her brother as she gave up her seat to her mother. As she walked by Thelma she planted a kiss on her cheek and offered a saucy smile before grabbing Al by the arm and pulling him up from the couch. "C'mon, Al, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."

"She's incorrigible, you know," Thelma said to Sam as she sat beside him.

"You love me anyway," Katie called over her shoulder to her mother as she bent to pick up one of the carry-on bags."

Al slung the other carry-on over his shoulder and picked up a suitcase in each hand and followed Katie to the bedrooms. She first took him into what was the guest bedroom. To Al it had a sort of neutral feminine air to it. It wasn't decorated in an overly feminine fashion but there was no mistaking that a woman had done the decorating.

"Sam's going to be in here," Katie said dropping the bag she was carrying on the bench at the end of the bed. "That box over there came for you the day before yesterday from New Mexico. I figured it was the stuff you told me someone from there would be sending out for you and Sam but I didn't want to open it up. I wasn't sure if any of Sam's work might be in it and I know some of the stuff he's doing is 'top secret' so I figured it was best to just leave it for you."

"That's great," Al said putting one of the suitcases down on the foot of the bed. "I'll open it up in a little bit and unpack it. It should mostly be some lighter weight clothes for the two of us. We hadn't exactly packed for spring in Hawaii when we started this whole trip. I'm hoping there's no work in there. That's the last thing Sam really needs right now. He needs to be spending time just resting and relaxing."

"Good luck with that," Katie said leading the way from the guest bedroom. "There's about as much chance of him resting and relaxing as there is Mom." She led the way back towards the kitchen and into a study just off of it. "I hope you don't mind the sleeper sofa in here. Jim's got the other bedroom full of his weights and stuff so it no longer resembles a bedroom."

"No, this is fine," Al said as he put down his suitcase and carry-on. He tamped down his uneasiness that he'd be sleeping at the other end of the house from Sam and might not hear him easily if he needed anything in the night. He had to start remembering he wasn't the only one who was here to take care of Sam now.

"It's ok to let go, Al," Katie said resting a hand on his arm.

"Huh? What do you mean?" he asked her.

"You're worried about not being right near Sam. I could see it in your face. It's ok, though. You don't have to do it all on your own anymore."

Al pulled Katie in for a quick spontaneous hug and released her. "We better get back and see if your Mom's using her arsenal of tricks to keep Sam in place," Al said starting for the door.

"Al," Katie said stopping him before he could leave the room. "Thank you for what you've done for Sam since the accident," she said once he turned to face her. "You've gone above and beyond what anyone could have asked you to do. If you hadn't been there with Sam I don't know what we would have done. Mom in the hospital here and Sam over in DC, I.just…thank you just isn't enough."

This time Katie instituted the hug and it lasted just a little longer than the one before.

"I owe your brother more than you can ever know," Al said once Katie had stepped back. "This doesn't even begin to touch it. I just wish I could have been a little faster and prevented it all from happening to begin with – to spare him the pain he's had."

"You're not Superman. I know you did everything you could possibly do to get Sam out of the way of that car. It was an accident, plain and simple and when Sam really needed someone, you were there for him. That's the important thing."

Al gave Katie a short, sharp nod. He knew in his head that what she was saying was the truth. It was convincing his heart of that that was a different matter. His heart kept telling him he could have done more. It kept telling him that it was his responsibility now to make sure nothing else happened.

"We better get back out there now before Mom and Sam start to think we ran off together," Katie said slipping past Al and leading the way out.

Al took a quick look down at his watch to see what time it was. "I'll meet you out there in a second," he said. "I just need to run and grab Sam's meds from his bag. He's due for his antibiotic again." He started to walk in the direction of the bedrooms and stopped. "Could you bring some crackers of something in to him and get him to eat them. He can't take the antibiotic on an empty stomach and I don't think your Mom's soup is ready yet."

"Sure thing," Katie said.

Al continued on his way to Sam's bedroom. When he got there he took some time to survey it. It was across from what he assumed was Thelma's bedroom and Jim's and Katie's was just a short way up the hall.

Grabbing the small bag with the meds out of Sam's carry-on he decided the armchair in the room, which looked fairly comfortable, would make a perfectly acceptable place to bunk if Sam needed him close by. He wasn't quite ready to yield his place as Sam's caretaker and protector. Nothing had been settled to his satisfaction regarding the driver who'd hit Sam and Sam's safety remained of utmost importance to him.

Satisfied with his decision he headed back to the living room.

He walked into what looked like chaos when he got into the living room. Sam was doubled over on the couch in the throes of a coughing fit with Katie and Thelma on either side of him.

"What's going on?" Al asked tossing the bag of meds down on one end of the couch and kneeling on the floor in front of Sam.

"He was fine one second," Thelma began to explain doing her best to stay calm, "and then he started to cough. It got worse until he's like you see now."

Al started to rub Sam's back from his place kneeling in front of him. "Easy, Sammy, you need to try to ease off now," he encouraged. When the coughing didn't seem to be letting up after another minute he got up and grabbed the bag with meds and pulled out the inhaler from inside of it. Going back over to Sam he encouraged him to sit up and put the inhaler in his hand. "Just like before, Sam," he said guiding Sam's hand up.

Sam managed to use the inhaler in between coughs and it didn't take long before it did its work and the cough finally eased up. "Thanks," he gasped out handing the inhaler back to Al and wiping the tears the coughing jag had caused from his face. "I'm ok, Mom," he assured when he saw how worried Thelma was.

"No, you're not ok, Sweetheart," Thelma calmly answered, "but you will be. Right now, though, I'm tucking you into bed where you belong and I don't want any arguments."

"Yes, Ma'am," Sam agreed and stood up from the couch. As soon as he was upright he started to list to the side and Al had to quickly grab him before he toppled over.

"Sam? What's wrong?" Al quickly asked.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head. "Feels like everything moved when I stood up," he explained. "It's stopping now."

"Ok, your Mom's right. Let's get you in bed."

Sam carefully nodded his head and let Al help him from the living room into the bedroom with Thelma following close behind. Al sat him on the edge of the bed and bent down to untie and pull off his shoes.

Thelma pulled the suitcase over to the other side of the bed and opened it up pulling out a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. She put them down on the bed next to Sam. "I'm going to go check on that soup while you get changed." She leaned down to kiss Sam on the temple. "I'll be back in a little bit."

By the time she got back in the room Al had helped Sam to change his clothes and had tucked him in the bed with the quilt pulled up under his chin. "He's feeling pretty chilled," Al explained when Thelma saw Sam huddled under the quilt.

"It's no wonder," she said sitting down on the edge of the bed and brushing her hand over Sam's forehead. "He's got a high enough fever. Just what did the doctor you saw the other day say was wrong?"

"He said it was just a run of the mill respiratory infection," Sam answered before Al could.

"He also said it could develop into something worse if we weren't careful," Al added. "And that that antibiotic should start working in 24 hours. It doesn't look like it's working yet to me."

"I'm just tired from the flight, that's all," Sam tried to explain.

"This is more than tired, Sam," Thelma countered. "You're sick whether you like it or not. I'm going to give Dr. Walters a call and see if he can come by and check on you." When Al seemed surprised to hear of a doctor who'd make a house call Thelma explained, "he's a friend of the family. It comes in pretty handy. It's either that or I have your sister drive you to the hospital," she finished seeing the stubborn set of Sam's jaw.

"Fine, Mom. If it'll make you happy."

"It's not going to make me happy, Sam, but it will put my mind at ease. Right now I want you to try to get some sleep."

"Yes, Ma'am," Sam softly agreed before rolling onto his side and closing his eyes.

Al and Thelma both watched him in silence for a few moments until Thelma rose from her place on the bed. "I'm going to get him unpacked. Why don't you go do the same?" When Al looked unsure of leaving Sam alone Thelma hastened to reassure him, "I'll be right here looking after him. It's ok, Admiral, I have lots of practice doing it."

Al nodded his acquiescence and grabbed the box from the corner of the room. "I'll just unpack this box in the other room and bring you whatever belongs to Sam," he said before leaving the room.

Thelma stood by the bed a few moments longer just watching Sam as he slipped into sleep. She again brushed her hand over his forehead and down his cheek before turning away to start unpacking the suitcase putting clothes into various drawers. Occasionally she'd stop and just watch Sam sleep.

"Here," Al said coming back into the room with a pile of neatly folded clothes. "These belong to Sam."

Thelma shook herself from her thoughts and turned to take the pile from Al.

After she'd had taken the pile, Al wandered over to the side of the bed and stood looking down at Sam. "He looks so peaceful when sleeps," he commented.

Thelma put the pile of clothes on the bed next to the suitcase and let out a soft laugh at the item she pulled from it. "He looks like he should still have one arm wrapped around this," she said holding up the stuffed bear, "and the other thumb in his mouth." She came around to the other side of bed and gently put the bear down on the nightstand near Sam. "He's got an ear infection," she said after a few seconds of watching her son.

"What makes you say that?" Al asked.

"The way he keeps tugging on his ear now that he's sleeping. He did the same thing when he was younger every time he had ear infection. All three of them would do that."

"He's gonna be ok," Al said putting an arm around Thelma's shoulders. "He's got his Mom to look after him now and that's gonna make a world of difference."

Thelma patted the hand that rested on her shoulder. "I know that, Admiral," she said then looked up at him. "I'm a mother, though, and worrying comes with the job. Lord knows you've had to do your fair share of that for the last few weeks. Thank you for being there for Sam. You've been a good friend to him…to all of us and I don't think there's anything we can do to repay you."

"Like I already told Katie, I owe Sam more than you'll ever know and this hasn't been anything he wouldn't have done if the roles were reversed. I just wish I could have spared him some of the pain and grief he's had. You raised him to be a good person. He hasn't deserved any of it."

"Do any of us deserve the hard times we have in our lives?" Thelma asked philosophically.

"Sometimes," Al murmured just below her hearing. "We should leave him to sleep now," he said steering her toward the door and out of the room. "It's probably the best thing for him. Who knows, the antibiotic he's on might kick in while he's sleeping and he'll wake up feeling 100 better."

"Damn," Al said just as Thelma was pulling door closed behind them.

"What?" she asked him.

"I just remembered I was bringing his next does of the antibiotic to him when he had that coughing fit. He never took it."

Thelma tugged on his arm when it looked like he was going to go back in the room. "He'll just have to take it when he wakes up. You said it yourself, Admiral, sleep is probably the best thing for him."

Al hesitated for a second then let Thelma lead him away. Inside a small voice was screaming at him for dropping the ball again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Jamie Walters knew he was taking a risk when he moved to Hawaii to set up his practice. He'd lived in Indiana his whole life but when his wife had walked out on him 2 years ago he'd felt it was time for a change in his life – a major change.

He'd come to Hawaii not knowing anyone and after the first month or two had begun to question his decision. His practice wasn't doing as well as he'd hoped and he spent so much time trying to get it off the ground that he had not time to socialize. It had been a stroke of luck when he'd bumped into Katie Beckett at the grocery store. She'd moved out to Hawaii a few years ago herself with her new husband and her mother was also living with her.

Jamie had been best friends with Katie's older brother, Tom, throughout high school. He'd always felt a pang of guilt when Tom had been killed in Vietnam. He'd been in his first year of med school then. By the time he'd finished med school and his internship the US had pulled out of Vietnam. He'd been spared that.

When the call came in early in the afternoon from Mrs. Beckett asking if he could stop by and check on Sam he hadn't hesitated to hurry over. He owed the Beckett family a lot. They'd really helped him out acclimatizing to being in Hawaii and he wanted to return the favor.

At first he'd been worried that the call had been for Thelma. It was just a few weeks ago that she'd been hospitalized for cardiac surgery. The fact that it was Sam who seemed to be ill didn't take his worry away. He knew from visiting with Thelma in the hospital that he'd been in a serious car accident. When he'd bumped into Katie over the weekend she'd mentioned that Sam was coming to stay with them for a while while he recuperated.

He parked his car in the drive-way behind Katie's. Seeing only one car in the driveway he assumed that Jim hadn't come home from Pearl Harbor yet. Grabbing his black medical bag out of the back seat of the car he went to the door and knocked.

"Jamie," Thelma said greeting him with a quick hug. "Thank you so much for coming over so fast."

"It's not a problem, Ma'am. I didn't have any patients scheduled this afternoon so I was able to come right over. What seems to be the trouble?"

"It's my son, Sam," Thelma began to explain leading him deeper into the house. "You know he was in that car accident a few weeks ago and was very sick with pneumonia."

Jamie nodded his head in understanding.

"He got here this morning and he's running a fever and coughing a lot. He's been sick since yesterday. He did go to the emergency room when he was in LA and they gave him an antibiotic but it doesn't seem to be doing him any good."

By this time they'd reached the bedroom Sam was in. The door was ajar and they could hear voices from inside arguing.

"He's not very happy about having to stay in bed," Thelma said as she opened the door.

"Mom, tell him I'm fine and I can get up," Sam said pointing at Al as soon as his mother walked in the room. He was trying to get out of bed but was having any luck since Al kept pushing him back onto the bed.

"You're not fine and you're butt's staying right there," Al countered again pushing Sam down to the bed, "You either stay put or I'm personally going to take you to the hospital."

"How about if you let me be the judge of who's fine and who needs a hospital," Jamie said coming into the room.

"Who the hell are you?" Al asked obviously exasperated and beyond caring about manners.

"Admiral!" Thelma chastised. "This Dr. Jamie Walters. He's an old friend of the family."

"I'm sorry, Doc." Al said in apology. "I'm just a little tired right now. I didn't mean to be rude."

"Not a problem," Jamie said putting out his hand to Al.

"Jamie, this is Admiral Al Calavicci," Thelma said by way of an introduction. "He's a close friend of Sam's…and the rest of the family too."

"Nice to meet you," Jamie said. He released Al's had and approached the bed. Sam was sitting on the edge with his arms crossed over his chest and a mulish expression on his face.

"Long time no see, huh Sam," Jamie said dropping his bag down on the edge of the bed.

Sam just looked at Jamie for a few moments with his eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I guess," he finally said grudgingly.

Al got the feeling that there was some history between the two and it probably wasn't for the best.

"Sam," Thelma said wading into the fray, "I want you to let Jamie examine you and make sure you don't need to be back in a hospital."

"I don't, Mom," Sam said firmly. "You do remember I'm a doctor, don't you?" he asked sarcastically.

"I remember quite well, young man, and you'd do well to save that sarcasm for someone who appreciates it." Thelma's tone of voice had taken on a steely quality at Sam's insolence.

"Yes, Ma'am," Sam softly said with his eyes downcast and properly chastised. He submitted to the examination. Al remained in the room to provide any information Sam couldn't – or wouldn't provide himself but Thelma was asked to wait outside.

When he was done examining Sam, Jamie opened the bedroom door and told Thelma she could come back in. It would be easier to just tell them all at the same time rather than having to repeat himself.

"Ok, I have to agree with the doctor you saw in LA. You've got a beut of a respiratory infection and if you don't take care of it you're going to find yourself in the hospital again with another bout of pneumonia. To be perfectly honest, from you recent medical history you're not strong enough for that right now. Just for a little added excitement you have an inner ear infection as well which would account for the vertigo you were feeling earlier."

At the announcement of the ear infection Thelma seemed to throw Al a look that said _I told you._

"So what do we do to treat it," Al asked.

"I'm going to switch the antibiotic to something a little stronger for starters. You should see results from it within 36 – 48 hours. Beyond that the most important thing right now is that you get rest. You said it yourself a little while ago, Sam, you're a doctor. You should know how important it is that you get as much rest as you can right now. To make sure you're getting the rest you need I want you on bedrest for the next 48 hours."

When Sam looked ready to argue Jamie held up his hand to stop him, "I could change that to hospitalization. I've got a feeling these two would be perfectly happy to drag you there bodily."

Seeing that no more argument was forthcoming from Sam, Jamie continued splitting his attention between the three people in the room, "Make sure he's drinking plenty of fluids. If he doesn't have an appetite, don't push him to eat although he will need to have a little something with the antibiotic to prevent his stomach from being upset. Continue using the inhaler when you need to as you've been doing and I want you to start the respiratory therapy you were doing in the hospital. The goal here is to make sure this doesn't turn into another bout of pneumonia. I only want you to use the cough suppressant if the cough is keeping you awake at night and you're not getting enough sleep. Coughing is going to help to drain your lungs and that's important right now. If there's no improvement within 48 hours or if he gets worse, I want you to call me."

"What about the fever he's running?" Thelma asked. "Can he take anything for that?"

"Tylenol every 6 hours is fine but you need to watch when he's taking it. He's on Tylenol 3 for pain so that will have the same effect and the last thing we want is to have him overdose on acetaminophen. I'll call the prescription in to the pharmacy so you won't have to wait as long for it."

Jamie switched his attention from Thelma to Sam. "You may not like it, Sam but if you follow my orders you'll find yourself out of that bed a whole lot faster than if you just do things your way." He paused a beat before putting out his hand to Sam, "It was good seeing you again. I just wish it had been under better circumstances."

There was an almost imperceptible hesitation before Sam shook Jamie's hand. If Al didn't know Sam as well as he did he probably wouldn't have picked up on it.

"I'll walk you out, Jamie and show you the phone," Thelma said before turning to Sam. "You, stay put in that bed and stop giving the Admiral a hard time or else." She took the sting out of her words when she bent down and kissed Sam lightly on the cheek.

---------------

"You didn't seem too happy to see him," Al commented once Thelma and Jamie were out of the room.

"I'm sick of seeing doctors, ok," Sam groused.

"Uh uh, I'm not buying that. Looks to me like there's some history there."

"There's no history, Al so just let it go, would ya." Sam rolled over in the bed so his back was to Al. "I'm going back to sleep since no one's going to let me do anything else."

When Al pulled the quilt up over Sam's shoulder he batted it back down. "I'm not cold so just leave it."

Al blew out a breath and backed away from the bed hands up in surrender. "Ok, Sam, have it your way. I'm just trying to help. Go to sleep and maybe you won't be so grouchy when you wake up."

Al was almost out of the room when Sam pushed up on one elbow and called him back. "I'm sorry I'm being a grouch. You don't deserve it. I'm just…I'm just…"

"Sick of being sick," Al supplied.

"Yeah," Sam agreed with a nod and small smile. "I'm sick of being sick."

"I don't blame you," Al sympathized. "Just remember it's not your mother's fault and it's not Katie's fault so try not to take it out them."

"So what are you saying? It's your fault and I should take it out on you?" Sam asked picking up on Al's omission of himself.

"Yeah," Al answered with a twisted smile hoping that a little levity and sarcasm would prevent Sam from seeing the omission as deliberate. "I'm used to putting up with your grouchiness - especially when you can't get your equations to work the way you want so this is nothing. It's been a while since your mom or Katie's had to deal with you in one of your moods so I figured I'd be nice to them and handle all the crap you want to throw."

"Am I really that bad?" Sam asked softly.

"No, Kid. You're not," Al answered him seriously. "Go to sleep now and get that rest you need." Al didn't wait to see if Sam lay back down before leaving the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Did I just miss something?" Al asked when he came out of the bedroom and went into the living room.

"What do you mean?" Katie asked him.

"What I mean is that if Dr. Walters is supposed to be an old family friend Sam sure didn't seem too happy to see him. I think he might have slugged him if your mother and I weren't there."

"Ah, that," Katie said. "Your guess is as good as any of ours. Sam and Jamie used to get along fine but after Tommy died…" she trailed off shrugging at the end of the sentence. "None of us have ever been able to figure out what's between those two and Sam would never say anything. It's really odd, though."

Thelma re-entered the house then after walking Jamie out to his car. "You got Sam to stay in bed?" she asked looking around the living room.

"Yeah, he said he was going to go back to sleep. I think he's feeling a lot worse than he's letting on."

"Well, the sleep will do him good."

Al considered for a moment asking Thelma if she knew what had gone on in the past with Sam and Jamie but thought the better of it. Katie had said no one had been able to figure it out so it was likely that Thelma was just as much in the dark as everyone else.

Katie grabbed her car keys and her purse from inside of the coat closet. "I'll run down to the pharmacy and pick up his new prescription. Do we need anything while I'm out?"

"Why don't you pick up some ice cream," Thelma suggested as the sounds of Sam's cough filtered out from the bedroom. "I've got a feeling if he keeps coughing like that his throat is going to be very sore soon and he might welcome it."

"Sure thing," Katie agreed. She gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried out the door.

"Before you ask, Al, I don't know what Sam has against Jamie. He's never told any of us and when we ask he just flies off the handle." Thelma noted the surprised look on Al's face. "Don't be so surprised that I knew what you were thinking. It was written all over your face. Take my advice, don't ask Sam about Jamie unless you want to be treated to his temper. It's just something we all just let be."

Sam ended up sleeping through the majority of day. When Katie came back from the pharmacy he woke for a short while to eat his mother's chicken soup and take the new antibiotic then went right back to sleep.

"He keeps sleeping like this he's going to be awake all night," Thelma said to Al as she came out of Sam's room. She'd gone in and woken him up so that he could take some Tylenol to bring the fever he was running down and to get some water in him. As soon as he'd swallowed them he'd lain right back down curling up under the quilt.

"I wish he would wake up for a while," Al said from his place on the couch. "He hasn't been able to do much of the therapy he's supposed to be doing with all the travel. I'm afraid if he doesn't start again soon it's going to set him back."

"Maybe you should go in there now before he falls back to sleep," Thelma suggested.

"Yeah, I probably should," Al agreed getting up from the couch and heading for Sam's room.

When he got in the room the only part of Sam that was visible from under the quilt was the top of his head.

"Hey, Sam, you awake?" Al asked nudging him gently.

When he answered Sam's voice was hoarse from all of the coughing "No, I'm not, now go away," he croaked.

"You must be talking in your sleep now. I'll go away just as soon as we do some stretching exercises on your leg. You haven't done any in a couple of days and that's not good."

Sam threw the quilt down from over his face and head. "Do we have to do it right now? I promise to do them later, Al. I just really want to sleep right now."

Al sat down on the side of the bed and Sam pushed over to give him room. "You're really feeling pretty bad, huh?" he asked brushing the back of his hand over Sam's cheek.

"Yeah, I am. Not bad like when I was in the hospital – just bad enough to not want to do anything but sleep."

"Ok, kid, I'll let it slide for today but we need to get to work on it tomorrow. If we don't you're going to pay the consequences."

"I know that and I promise, I will. We don't have to wait 'til tomorrow, just later," Sam asked again with wide eyes.

"How 'bout this, we'll just do the ones right now where I do all the work and you just lay there then we can wait and do the other one's tomorrow at least that way we can make sure those muscles are getting stretched out."

"Yeah, ok," Sam agreed and rolled over onto his back.

Al went around to the other side of the bed to be on the same side as Sam's bad leg. "I'm gonna need you to move closer to this side."

Sam pushed himself over to the side of bed closest to Al who made sure his head was still supported by the pillows. Pulling the quilt and sheet back just enough to free Sam's leg but keep the rest of him cocooned in its warmth, Al did the passive exercises with Sam. He was surprised to see that Sam had fallen back to sleep before they were done. He pulled the quilt and sheet back into place making sure it was tucked warmly around Sam. It may have been warm and in the 80's outside but the central AC kept the house cool and in his fevered and ill state that meant the chills for Sam.

Sure that ill man was comfortable and warm and once more deeply asleep Al left the room pulling the door shut behind him.

Contrary to Thelma's belief, Sam had no problem going to sleep that night. He'd gotten out of bed long enough to sit with everyone else to eat dinner. Thelma and Al had both argued that he was to stay in bed and dinner would be brought in to him but he wouldn't do it. He told them he'd had enough of having his meals brought to him while he was in bed and that he wanted to eat dinner with his family and have things start to go back to normal.

Al bit his tongue and chose not to point out to Sam that normal for him was generally sitting at his desk in either his office or his lab and eating whatever Al dropped down in front of him. There were some things that were just better off not being brought up.

Although Sam mostly pushed the food around his plate he seemed to enjoy being with his family for dinner smiling and laughing with them. For that Al was grateful since it was the closest Sam had been to "normal" since the accident. Once dinner was done, both Thelma and Al sent Sam off to bed. Even Katie's husband, Jim, agreed that Sam looked as if he needed to lie down.

Thelma had sat with Sam for a while talking quietly with him until he finally settled down to sleep. Just before heading off to bed himself, Al stopped to look in on Sam.

It was just before 3:00 when a hoarse scream sounded through the house. Silently Al cursed as he pulled himself from bed and hurried to Sam's room. He should have insisted on just sleeping on the floor in Sam's room or something to be close by him instead of being at the other end of the house.

When he got to Sam's room Thelma was already in there sitting on the side of the bed trying to calm Sam down. Although he was sitting up with his eyes open, it only took one look at Sam's eyes for Al to quickly decide that Sam was not awake. He heard Jim and Katie come up and stand in the doorway as he went over to help Thelma try to calm Sam down.

"The blood won't go away," Sam said holding his hands out to his mother only to pull them back and start scrubbing at them. "It needs to go away. The blood needs to go away."

Without meaning to, Al scrubbed at his own arm where, in his dream, Sam had grabbed him with a bloodied hand. Shaking off any feelings from his own dreams he joined Thelma in trying to calm Sam.

"There's no blood, Sam, your hands are clean," Thelma kept repeating in a soft voice. "It's ok, Sweetheart, they're clean." Sam either didn't hear or didn't believe Thelma's words. When Al joined in repeating the same thing Sam shook his head violently and held out his hands to Al.

"It's there. The blood's on my hands. Make it go away?" he pleaded.

Al took one of Sam's hands between his own and gently wiped it. "It's all gone, Sam. It's ok, there's no blood."

"No, it's there. It's there. I can see it," Sam cried pulling his hand back and trying to scrub away the blood only he could see.

Finally Thelma turned to her daughter. "Katie, go wet a washcloth and bring it in to me with a towel."

When Katie brought the requested items in to her mother Thelma thanked her and sent her and Jim off to bed. "Go on, we'll take care of your brother. You need your rest and Jim; you need to be up early tomorrow."

"C'mon, Katie," Jim said gently leading her from the room. "It'll be all right." He pulled the door closed behind them.

Turning back to Sam, Thelma gently took one of his hands in hers and thoroughly washed it with the wet washcloth and then dried it with the towel before doing the same to the other hand. "There, Sam, it's all gone now. Mama washed it off and it's all gone now."

Sam held up his hands studying them. He turned them over and over looking for any trace of the non-existent blood. "It's all gone," he finally breathed out in a sigh dropping his hands down to his lap before holding them out again to Al. "Look, it's all gone."

"I know, Sam," Al agreed. He enfolded Sam's hands in his and brought them to rest once more in Sam's lap before gently pushing down on his shoulders so that he'd lie down. "You need to go to sleep now and rest."

Sam tried to push back up but wasn't able to fight against Al. "Mom," he called out holding out a hand.

"I'm right here, Sweetheart," Thelma said taking the outstretched hand. "Lie back down like Al says now. You need to rest so you can get better." She put his hand down on his chest and pulled the quilt up and tucked it around his shoulders.

"Don't go," Sam asked her.

"I'll stay right here until you fall asleep," Thelma promised him.

She and Al both sat quietly in the room until Sam finally slipped back into a deep sleep.

"You should go on back to bed," Al advised once Sam was sleeping again. "You need to get your own rest."

"Oh, I couldn't right now, Al. I'm too worried about Sam. Why don't you go back to bed," she suggested.

Al smiled ruefully at her. "Don't think I could go back to sleep either."

Thelma let out a soft laugh. "Aren't we a pair? Here he is sleeping peacefully and now we're too worried to go back to bed ourselves."

"We should probably leave before we wake him back up talking," Al suggested. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee," he offered holding out his hand to Thelma.

Thelma took his hand and let him lead her from the room. "Coffee now and you'll never go back to sleep. How about some warm milk?"

"Ewww," Al said as he mock-shuddered at the mention of warm milk. "I haven't had that since I was in the orphanage and I'll have you know, dear lady, I can drink coffee any time and it doesn't keep me up."

"Well, that may be true for you but it's not for me."

The two of them sat opposite each other at the kitchen table with their warm beverage of choice cradled in front of them. "How'd you know he'd quiet down if you washed his hands? I've got a feeling that wasn't just a shot in the dark."

"No, it wasn't," Thelma admitted before taking a sip from her mug. "Unfortunately this isn't the first time that Sam's woken up screaming about blood on his hand. I thought since it worked before when I washed his hands for him it should work now. I'd just hoped he'd grown out of these nightmares."

"He told me they started after Tom was killed in Vietnam."

Thelma's head shot up when Al correctly identified how her oldest child had died. "Did he tell you that, Admiral or are you just guessing."

Al took a swallow from his coffee before answering. "He told me a couple of months ago when he was sick with bronchitis. I'd been keeping him company and he woke up a few times from nightmares. I finally pressed him and he told me about them and what happened, or at least what he thought had happened."

Thelma put a hand to her mouth with a small intake of breath. "He finally remembered," she breathed out.

"Yeah, he did. He'd been having the nightmare a lot and finally told me about it. I inadvertently said the same thing to him his father did and it all came back to him – or at least most of it did. He said there are still parts that he couldn't remember."

"The day of Tom's funeral was just horrible. Not only was I burying my oldest child but I was watching my remaining son fall apart right in front of me and I felt helpless to do anything. John had to pull Sam out of the room where Tom was bodily and he just kept repeating the same thing over and over and his voice kept getting louder and louder. He just kept saying 'his face, Tommy's face'. He woke up that night with such nightmares we didn't know what to do and when he finally went back to sleep he slept for two days solid. I thought I was going to lose him too. When he woke up he didn't seem to remember anything about that day. If someone asked him about going into the room where Tom was he always said John stopped him before he could. Dr. Berger told us that Sam was blocking it out of his mind – that it was too much for him to handle. Those memories didn't leave him alone at night, though, that's when they'd haunt him. It hurt him so deeply and I didn't know how to take the pain away. Sending him to school early seemed to the be best thing for him. He'd call us from school and tell us how happy he was, how much he was enjoying it. It all seemed to be working out for the best. He even said the nightmares had stopped."

"They didn't, though, did they?" Al prompted.

Thelma shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe they did for a time but when he came home from Thanksgiving they were back. That was a horrible Thanksgiving. It was the first one without Tom and that's when we had to tell the children we had no choice but to sell the farm. It was either that or lose it to the bank in a few months. The day after Sam had been in the barn, he claims alone. When he came into the house, though, the right side of his face had an awful bruise and his left eye was blackened like someone had hit him. He kept claiming that he'd been alone and just slipped and hit the wall."

"But you didn't believe him?"

"Would you have believed him? He was so defensive about it when anyone asked. He always insisted that he was alone. He had a horrible nightmare that night. It was the first time he woke up screaming about the blood. It took John and me nearly a ½ hour to get him calmed down and only when I washed his hands." Thelma lifted the cup taking another sip from it before raising her face to Al. "What could he have seen that would have affected him so deeply like this?" she asked and Al could see the note of pleading in her eyes.

He debated what he should tell her. If he told her what he thought it could hurt her more than she should be hurt. Looking across to her and seeing the pleading in her eyes he decided it was only fair to tell her, if only to make it easier for her to understand why it still hurt Sam so deeply.

Al took another drink from his coffee trying to decide the best way to tell her.

"Admiral - Al, if you know something, please, tell me," Thelma asked mistaking Al's continued silence for reluctance to tell her. "Tom was…is my son. For 20 years I've wondered what happened to him. John never wanted me to know and I respected him and never asked. Sam was the only other one who knew but he couldn't tell me. Even though you've told me he remembers I can't ask that of him and make him feel that hurt again. Please, tell me."

"I don't really know anything for certain," Al began to explain to her. "All I can tell you is what I think happened based on what you've told me and what Sam remembers. I think the chances are very good that Tom may have been shot at close range in the back of the head. If that's what happened then…" Al trailed off unable to complete his own thoughts.

"Oh God," Thelma said suddenly blanching as the implication of what Al had said hit home.

Al moved around to Thelma's side of the table wrapping her in a hug. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Beckett."

Thelma gratefully leaned into the hug. "Sam should have never seen that. It's no wonder he blocked it from his mind for so long. My poor baby…my poor babies."

Al held Thelma as she cried on his shoulder for the son she'd lost 20 years ago and for the son who had carried the pain of that loss with him for all these years.

Finally she straightened up from Al, her tears under control. I don't want Sam to know we've talked about this. He's been hurt so much by his brother's death, I don't want to add anymore hurt.

Al nodded his agreement. He'd come to that decision himself the morning Sam's memories had come rushing back. Al had decided that unless Sam brought it up in the future, he wouldn't mention it. He'd seen how raw the hurt still was and had no intention of adding to the wound.

"Look at the time," Thelma said getting up from the table and grabbing both of their mugs to take to the sink. "We should both get back to bed and try to get some sleep or we'll never get up in the morning."

"Why don't you go on," Al said taking the mugs from her. "I'll take care of these."

She nodded and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight, Al" she said before disappearing up the hall to her room.

Al watched her leave before gently placing the mugs in the sink. He was torn between going back to the study and bed or going back to Sam's room. Finally he decided to test out the arm chair in Sam's room and see just how comfortable it really was knowing if he went back to the study he'd just lie awake anyway straining to hear any sound from Sam.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Saturday, March 31, 2006

The morning sun was shining through the window when Sam began stir. After a few minutes he lazily opened his eyes and stretched. He glanced over to the clock and was surprised to see that it was already a little after eight. It wasn't like him to sleep this late. Stretching once more he threw back the covers and sat up on the edge of the bed.

He almost surprised that someone hadn't appeared in the doorway the minute he woke up. Since yesterday, his mother and Al had hovered about him waiting on him hand and foot. He'd felt like he needed a hall pass the few times he'd gotten out of bed to use the bathroom.

Unfortunately his mother and Al had taken Jamie Walters' advice of bed rest just a little too seriously. Sam snorted softly thinking of Jamie Walter. Who the hell was he to tell Sam what he should and shouldn't do?

Al had been right when he'd said there was history between the two of them. If he only knew. For just a second Sam mulled over telling Al about that history. It could be interesting just to see what Al would do to Jamie. Quickly Sam discarded the thought. That was a secret he'd kept for too long.

The smell of fresh brewed coffee trickled into the room andhe aroma of it awoke his hunger and his stomach began go growl. Grabbing his cane, he got up from the bed and made his way out into the hall. It was likely Al and Thelma were just going to chase him back to bed but he wasn't going to let that happen until he'd had something to eat – at the table like everyone else. Even though he hadn't had much at dinner the night before it had been good to just sit there with everyone else.

He was nearly to the kitchen we he realized that not only was he hungry but he was feeling quite a bit better than he had been the day before. Either the antibiotic had finally kicked in or all he'd really needed was a good solid rest.

Arriving in the kitchen he saw his mother, Al, and Katie seated around the table eating breakfast. Jim had mentioned at dinner the night before that he had some work to do on base this morning.

"Good morning," Sam called out walking into the kitchen. He was greeted with a variety of different responses.

"What are you doing out of bed," Al immediately questioned only to be followed by Thelma's concerned, "Sam, Sweetheart, you should be resting."

Only Katie gave him any kind of normal greeting and cheerily responded back, "Morning, Sam."

Sam threw Katie a grateful look that at least she was treating him like a normal person and not an invalid. "I was hungry. I wanted some breakfast," he said in response to Thelma and Sam.

Thelma jumped up from the table putting an arm around Sam's shoulders to walk him back to his room. "You don't have to get up for that. You know Dr. Walters said you should be on bed rest. Let's get you back to bed and I'll bring you in some oatmeal and toast."

"No," Sam said stiffening ever so slightly at the mention of Jamie Walters. Seeing the shocked look on his mother's face he hastened to add, "Really, Mom, I'm feeling a lot better than I was yesterday. I just want to eat whatever everyone else is eating here at the table." Seeing that she still looked upset by his words he tagged on, "I'll go right back to bed afterwards. I promise." He bent down to give her a peck on the cheek to further soften his words.

"Well, ok," Thelma said giving in and walking Sam over to the table. While he lowered himself into a chair, hanging his cane from the back of it, she bustled around filling a plate for him with fresh made French toast and bacon. "The water's still hot. I'll make you some tea," she said putting the plate down in front of him.

"No, that's ok, Mom," Sam said stopping her. "The coffee smells good. I think I'd like a cup of it for a change."

Sam turned his attention to the task of eating. It had been far too long since he'd had his mother's cooking and that, combined with his hunger, made eating a top priority for him at the moment. It wasn't until he'd cleaned off half of his plate that he finally became aware of the awkward silence at the table and the strange looks all three kept giving him.

"What?" Sam said looking around at the three of them. "Did I put salt in my coffee or something?" he laughed.

There was no immediate answer from the three of them. Al and Thelma exchanged uneasy looks with each other and Katie busied herself with her food.

"Someone want to tell me what's going on?" Sam asked confused.

Katie finally blew out an exasperated breath looking from her mother to Al. "I guess we're all just trying to figure out if you remember last night," she said.

"Katherine," Thelma warned in a low tone while Al threw here a look that would have terrified any enlisted man.

"What about last night?" Sam asked warily. "Was I sleep walking or something?"

Katie deliberately ignored her mother and Al. "No. You woke up at about 3:00 screaming about there being blood on your hands. You didn't quiet down until Mom washed your hands." She looked hard and long at her brother. "You don't remember, do you?"

"No, I don't." Sam responded quietly. He put his fork and knife down gently on his plate no longer interested in the food there. The French toast that he'd been enjoying now suddenly seemed to taste like sawdust in his mouth. He reached around grabbing his cane off the back of the chair and stood up. "I think I'm going to go and lie down again. I'm starting to feel tired." His voice was pitched low, just above a whisper. Without another word or look to anyone at the table he made his way back to the bedroom.

"Sam," Thelma said as she put a hand out to gently stop him. Just as gently he shook off her hand and continued to the bedroom closing the door softly behind him and leaning against it for a minute.

He finally pushed off from the closed door and moved to sit on the bed with his back pressed up against the headboard. He brought his legs up wrapping his arms loosely around them and retreated into himself. Almost as quickly as he sat down he was back up pacing the length of the room.

"You shouldn't have said anything, Katie," Thelma sighed when she heard Sam close the door.

"Why, Mom? What does that accomplish? We've done the same thing for nearly 20 years now. No one says anything to Sam that might upset him – might make him remember the dreams he keeps having. What's it accomplished, Mom? The dreams don't go away and we've never dealt with what brought them on. It's time for all of us to start dealing with it. If we don't, Sam's never going to have peace."

Thelma sighed again deeply and it looked to Al as if someone had put a knife in her heart and twisted it. "He's too fragile right now, Katie. It's not the right time."

Katie was hurting just as much for her brother as her mother was but she was frustrated as well. "When's it ever going to be the right time?" she asked before standing up abruptly and beginning to clean off the table.

Al had a feeling that what he was witnessing wasn't something new. It didn't look like it would be solved today any better than it had in the past and he was become uncomfortable as the silent witness to it. "I'm gonna go check on Sam," he said getting up from the table. He didn't wait for either of the women to acknowledge what he'd said before heading for Sam's room.

He knocked softly on the closed door and waited for an answer. When there was none he knocked again just a bit harder. This time when there was no answer from the man on the other side of the door he opened it enough to peer around it. "Can I come in?" asked.

"Yeah," Sam softly responded.

Al walked into the room pushing the door closed behind him and stood near it. Silence descended on the room as he watched Sam pace back and forth like caged tiger.

"You know, you're supposed to be resting, not trying to wear a hole in the carpet." He thought maybe a little levity might help to calm Sam down. "You keep this up and your mother's liable to call Dr. Walters and have him sedate you." It was exactly the wrong thing to say as he quickly found out.

"F Jamie Walters," Sam burst out stopping his pacing long enough to get in Al's personal space.

Al was taken aback not only by the vehemence in Sam's voice but by his use of foul language. It wasn't as if Sam were too "good" to ever use foul language it was more that he very rarely used it and only then when he had been pushed to the limits of his temper. Al quickly deduced that this was one of those times.

"Who the hell does that son of a bitch think he is anyway?" Sam had resumed his pacing and it was as heated as his words were. "So what if he's got a medical degree. I've got that and then some. The bastard can't get anywhere near matching me."

Now Al really knew that Sam had been pushed to his extremes. If his use of foul language was rare it was even rarer that he would throw his intelligence up to anyone. If anything he frequently tried to downplay it doing his best to fit in with everyone else.

Al finally intercepted Sam's pacing putting his hands on his shoulders to stop him. "Whoa, slow down there. I know you're angry right now but if you keep this up you're going end up tripping and hurting yourself. I don't think you want to do that."

At first Sam struggled in Al's grasp before he finally stilled, shoulders slumping in an admission of defeat.

"Ok, how 'bout if we sit down and talk about this rationally," Al said once Sam had stopped trying to fight.

Sam gave a quick, sharp nod and moved to sit on the edge of the bed.

"You wanna tell me what this is all about, what's going on?" Al asked sitting on the armchair that he'd pulled around to face Sam.

"Nothing's going on," Sam mumbled. He didn't look up to meet Al's eyes looking down at his hands clasped in his lap instead.

"Uh uh, I'm not buying that," Al said. "Something's got you upset. I don't know how but I think that dream you had last night and Jamie Walters are somehow tied together. You gonna tell me how or should I start playing guessing games."

"It's nothing, Al. I just…I'm just tired, ok." Sam finally looked up at Al and Al was startled by the raw pain and pleading he saw in his eyes. "Please, just let it go and forget about. Please."

Al wanted to fight with Sam, to get him to open up and tell him what the problem was – what had him so off-balance. He couldn't do it, though, and risk deepening that look of pain.

When Al didn't say anything right away Sam lay back on the bed rolling over with his back to Al. "I think I'm just going to go back to sleep for a while," he said but his words were partially muffled by the pillow he'd pushed his face into.

"Ok, Kid, if this is what you want to do," Al said getting up from the chair and pulling the covers back over Sam. He was ready to walk away from the bed but stopped looking at the huddled form. "You know, whatever it is I've got a feeling you've been trying to bury it and hide from it for a long time. That's not gonna work, though, 'cause it's always gonna be waiting to come out and bite you one the butt when you least expect it. When you're ready to talk to me about it I'll be here to listen to you."

He was getting ready to walk out of the room when Sam's words stopped him. "And what about you? When are you gonna admit whatever it is that's eating at you or is that gonna be a secret?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sam?" Al said stopping at the foot of the bed and turning back to face the younger man.

Sam sat up in the bed. "Why were you sleeping in here last night, Al?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sam," Al repeated in denial. "I was in here when you had that dream but that was it."

"Don't lie to me, Al," Sam said in a calm quiet. "I saw you in here. I woke up for a few minutes around 5 and you were sleeping in that chair and I want to know why."

Al felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. He didn't think Sam or anyone else knew he'd spent part of the night sleeping in the arm chair by Sam's bed. He'd snuck out of the room early before anyone else in the house was awake. He'd never thought that Sam had woken up and seen him there.

"Ok, I was sleeping in here for a while last night," Al admitted. "You were pretty upset and I wanted to make sure you were ok. I figured if I was in here and you got upset again I could get you calmed down before you could wake the whole house." It was a cover, Al knew that, but at least it had the ring of truth to it. Part of the reason he had stayed in Sam's room last night was if he were woken by dreams again. A big part was that he wanted to be close by to make sure nothing happened to him in the night.

Sam stared at him through narrowed eyes not quite believing what Al had told him. "There's more to it than that but I guess you're not gonna tell me and that's that."

"Yeah, well, I guess we all have our secrets that we're keeping," Al retorted.

"Touché," was Sam's soft response before he lay back down again rolling over so his back was to Al.

Al rubbed both hands over his face lost as to what had just happened. Somehow it seemed everything had just spiraled out of control and he wasn't sure how or why it had happened. He headed for the bedroom door stopping with his hand resting on the door knob. "You get some rest now," he said looking back to Sam. "I'll come in later to check on you." A deafening silence was his only response.

Shaking his head slowly he pulled the door open and walked out. "Some vacation this is shaping up to be he murmured.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Sam waited until the door had closed behind Al before giving into the cough that he'd been doing his best to stifle. The last thing that he'd wanted to do was to give into it while Al was there to fuss over him. He'd just about hit his threshold of people fussing.

He turned his face into the pillow to muffle the sound so it wouldn't carry beyond the bedroom and bring anyone else in. When it kept going, though, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath easily, he was finally forced to sit up and reach for the inhaler on the nightstand.

Within a couple of minutes of using it, it started to work relaxing the bronchial spasms that had made getting in a full breath so difficult. As he reached over to put the inhaler back Sam caught sight of the myriad prescription bottles that were on the nightstand. It seemed that instead of the collection growing smaller it kept having more and more added to it.

In a fit of anger and frustration he swept his hand over the nightstand knocking them all to the ground. The inhaler stubbornly remained, though, having eluded his sweeping hand. That only furthered his anger and he picked the it back up and hurled it as hard as he could at the wall opposite him. He narrowly missed hitting his mother as she walked in the door.

"Sam!" Thelma called out in surprise.

"Mom!" Sam said equally surprised. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't throwing it at you. I was just so frustrated and I didn't see you there and…"

"And you just let it fly," Thelma finished for him.

Sheepishly Sam nodded his head in agreement.

Thelma k down to pick up the wayward inhaler bringing it over to Sam. It was only when she'd come over to the side of the bed that she noticed the rest of the medicine bottles that had been knocked down to the floor. "I guess you were really frustrated," she commented dryly before kneeling down to pick them up.

Sam slid out of the bed kneeling on the floor near his mother. "Don't," he said holding her wrists to stop her from cleaning his mess. "I did it, I'll clean it up."

Thelma stood back up putting down the bottle in her hand on the nightstand and took a step back and watched as Sam, on hands and knees, collected all of the bottles and lined them back up neatly. He leaned heavily on the mattress pulling himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry," he said again at a loss for what else to say.

Thelma sat down on the edge of bed beside Sam and looked at him carefully. "Sam? what's wrong, Sweetheart?" she asked hoping he'd be able to tell her.

"Nothings wrong, Mom. I'm just a little frustrated because this was supposed to be a vacation but it's certainly not turning out that way." He let out a small humorless laugh. "Doesn't seem any vacation I take lately turns out right. Maybe I should just give it up all together."

Thelma paused thinking back to that vacation 2 ½ years ago that Sam seemed to be referring to. She'd almost lost him that time. To her knowledge the only other time he'd taken time from his project since then was when he'd come out to Hawaii a few months later for his sister's wedding. "I don't think this is just frustration over a vacation gone wrong. You forget, I know you almost better than you know yourself. Something's got you off-balance."

"I broke my leg, Mom," Sam dryly responded with a half-smile. "I'm bound to be off-balance for a while because of that."

"You know that's not what I mean. Something's eating at you and you're trying to hide it. You have been for a while. Your sister seems to think it would help if you talked about it."

Sam got up from the bed taking a few stumbling steps over to the bureau against the wall and leaning on it for support. He kept his back to his mother and lightly rested his forehead on the edge of the bureau. "Katie should learn to mind her own business." He lightly hit his fist against the bureau before turning to lean his back against it and face his mother. "I told you, Mom, nothing's wrong. I'm just tired of being sick and having everyone treat me like I'm made out of glass or something." He put a smile on his face and did his best to allay her fears. "You'll see, I'll be fine in a few days. I'm already feeling a lot better than I was yesterday. Maybe I'll go take a walk on the beach later."

"I don't think so, Sam. Jamie said you were to be on bed rest…."

Sam didn't give his mother a chance to finish. "I don't care what he said," he told her heatedly. "I'm the best judge of how I'm feeling, not him. He can just…." He cut himself off not wanting to expose his mother to the same tirade he had Al. He looked down to the floor pinching the bridge of his nose.

When he'd started to rant about Jamie, Thelma rose from the bed to stand next to him and rested a calming hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry," Sam said yet again looking back up at his mother. He started to take the few steps necessary to reach the bed, Thelma helping to support him. "You know, maybe everybody's right. Maybe I just need to go back to bed and rest. Maybe then I won't be so grumpy."

He lay back down on the bed and allowed his mother to pull the blankets back over him before she sat on the edge of the bed running a hand through his hair. "I wish you'd talk to me or someone about what's bothering you, Sam, and don't tell me it's nothing. I'm not going to keep pushing you, though. You're obviously not ready to open up yet and I don't want to upset you more."

"Thanks, Mom," he said sitting back up. He put out his arms and Thelma pulled him into a warm hug. For just a moment she was able to forget he was a grown man. Instead he was just her little boy looking for the comfort only his mother could give him. She rocked back and forth slightly as she held him much as she used to when he was small. She cradled the back of his head with one hand and ran the other up and down his back soothingly while she whispered senseless words of comfort in his ear. Eventually she released him helping him to lie back down and tucking him in once again before kissing him softly on the cheek.

"You rest for a while," she told him softly. "I'll be back in later to check on you."

Wordlessly Sam nodded and watched as she got up from the edge of the bed and left the room pulling the door quietly closed behind her.

He didn't know if it was actual fatigue, boredom from being forced to lie in bed, or just a way to escape but without meaning to Sam soon fell back into a deep sleep and remained that way for several hours. When he woke again he lay very still in the bed listening to the noises in the house. Softly he could hear the murmur of the TV in the living room and from outside he could hear the lapping of the waves. Occasionally he could hear clanging noises coming from the kitchen and guessed either his mother or Katie must have been in there cooking.

He pushed up to lean on one elbow and looked to the clock beside the bed and was surprised to see that it was already after one. He'd slept much longer than he thought. Throwing back the covers he slipped out of bed and grabbed the cane and padded over to the bedroom door. He stood quietly beside it for a moment straining to hear if anyone was outside of it. When he didn't hear anyone he pushed the door open and stepped out. He hesitantly walked into the hall fully expecting someone, at any moment, to order him back to bed. When the expected order didn't come he more confidently headed in the direction of the kitchen.

"Hey, look who's up again," Katie called out when she saw him at the kitchen door. "You must be hungry since you didn't eat all your breakfast and you slept through lunch."

"Yeah, I guess I am," Sam answered hesitantly as he sat down at the kitchen table. "Where's Mom?"

"She's outside puttering around in her flower garden. You know how it is. You can take the farm girl out of Indiana but…

"You can't take the farm out of the farm girl," Sam finished with a laugh having heard similar said about himself for many years.

"Do you get as tired of hearing that as I do?" Katie asked coming up from behind the kitchen island where she was putting pans away in the cabinet.

Sam shrugged at her question. "I don't know. I guess I never really thought about it. It's who we are and where we came from. I guess we really can't hide that."

"No, I guess not," Katie agreed. "So, how does a sandwich sound to you?"

"Sounds great but you know I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can but I've also seen you at work in a kitchen. I just finished cleaning up in here and I don't need Typhoon Sam blowing through if you don't mind."

Sam huffed out a soft laugh. "Where's Al."

"Last time I checked he was supposedly watching TV in the living room," she answered as she pulled sandwich fixings out of the refrigerator and set them down on the counter. Seeing her brother's raised eyebrows she further explained, "he had his eyes closed so I'm sure the only thing he was watching were his dreams. Turkey or ham?"

"Turkey's fine with extra mayo."

"Coming right up," Katie said as she started to make lunch for her brother.

"Hey, when'd you get out of bed?" Al asked coming into the kitchen.

"He must have heard you talking about him," Sam said to Katie before turning to Al. "Just a little while ago and before you try chasing me back there, I'm not going."

"I've given up even trying that argument anymore," Al said sitting down at the table opposite Sam. "Besides, you're looking a lot better today than you were yesterday."

"I told you, I'm not going to back to bed because I'm…what did you say?" Sam asked realizing that Al had said the exact opposite of what he'd been expecting. From her place at the counter Katie let out a laugh.

"I said, I'm not going to argue with you," Al repeated. "I know a useless argument when I see one."

"Oh, uh, ok then," Sam replied at a loss for words. He'd been expecting to have to argue with Al to say out of bed and was taken completely aback by Al's easy agreement.

"Here, eat your lunch and close your mouth before you start catching flies," Katie told her brother putting a plate in front of him with a sandwich, some potato salad and glass of lemonade. "Can I get you anything, Al?"

"Some of that lemonade might be good," Al responded pointing to the glass in front of Sam.

When Thelma came in the house a while later she found the three of them sitting around the kitchen table talking and laughing. "Well, you're looking a lot better," she said to Sam standing behind him. When he tilted his head back to see her she kissed him on the forehead. "You're still not taking any walks on the beach today," she said ruffling his hair.

"No, Ma'am," Sam quickly agreed.

"And how are you doing?" she asked her daughter bestowing the same kiss on her that she had on Sam.

"I'm ok now, Mom," Katie assured her.

"Was something wrong?" Sam asked his brow crinkling in confusion and concern.

"Nothing's really 'wrong'," Katie answered quickly. "I just had a touch of morning sickness earlier but I feel fine now. Just thank God that's something that you'll never have to experience."

"What won't who have to experience?" Jim asked coming into the kitchen and hugging Katie from behind where she sat.

"Sam won't ever have to experience morning sickness, that's what and what are you doing home already. I didn't think you'd be home until later." Katie got up from her seat at the table and started collecting the plates and cups on the table taking them over to the sink to wash.

Jim came up behind Katie wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. "I just thought maybe you'd like to go out to a nice dinner tonight, just the two of us."

Calmly Katie put the dishes into the sink and turned around in Jim's arms. "What's going on?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing's going on, Hon. I just thought you might like a nice dinner together."

"Uh uh, don't give me that nothing. Last time you came home early and took me out for dinner it was because they were…." Katie stopped thinking about what she was about to say. "Oh, Jim, they're deploying you, aren't they? That's why you're home early and that's why you want to take me out for dinner."

Jim didn't answer her, he just looked down to the floor and that was answer enough.

"What about the baby?" Katie asked. "I thought you'd be here."

"I will, Hon, I promise. It's just for 3 months. I'll be back long before the baby comes," Jim reassured her.

Katie sighed her whole body slumping with disappointment. "When do you leave?"

"Monday morning."

"Monday! So soon? Where are they sending you?"

Jim shrugged in answer. "I can't say. It's on a 'need to know basis'. I'm so sorry, Hon. If there was anything I could do to change this you know I would."

"I know, Jim, I know. Sometimes I just think you care more about the damned Navy than you do about me." Katie buried her face in her hands allowing Jim to put his arms around her in comfort. Finally she looked back up to him. "I'm sorry, that wasn't fair. I know you have to follow orders. It's just so hard sometimes." She took a deep breath wiping her hands over her face trying to remove any trace of tears that may have been there and put a smile on her face. "Well, if I only get you for tonight and tomorrow then I'm going to make the best of it. I'm going to go get changed and then we're going out for that dinner and whatever else." She started to head in the direction of her and Jim's bedroom. "Mom, Sam, Al, don't wait up for us. We might not be home until tomorrow."

The three at the table remained silent watching her leave. Jim leaned back against the sink, hands in his pockets. "Sorry to ruin the good time," he said. "I better go make sure she doesn't decide to tear the bedroom apart instead of getting ready for dinner."

"It's ok, Jim. We understand," Thelma reassured him. "You go on after her. We'll be fine here."

Once Jim was gone from the room Thelma took Katie's place at the sink washing the few dishes. Al got up from the table. "I think I'm going to go outside for a little while," he said with an odd look on his face.

Sam watched him leave before standing from the table as well. "I think I'm gonna go make sure Al's ok," he told him mother. "I think something's bother him."

"You're supposed to be resting," Thelma said turning from the sink. "I don't think going outside is a good idea."

"Mom, I'm only going out for a little while then I'll be back in. I'll rest then."

"Well, put on a jacket or a sweater, at least," Thelma said seeing the determined set of her son's shoulders.

Sam huffed out a little laugh. "Mom, it's 85 degrees outside. I don't think I need to put a jacket on." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and follow Al out onto the deck.

Leaning against the rail around the deck and looking out to the startling turquoise of the ocean Al again acknowledged how lucky Katie and Jim were with their location.

"You ok, Al?" Sam asked quietly behind him. "You looked upset or something."

Al didn't answer Sam; he just kept looking out at the gently rolling waves.

"Al?" Sam questioned again coming over to stand against the rail next to Al.

"You ever see water that color?" Al asked deliberately not answering the question Sam had asked him.

"No. I didn't see the ocean that much growing up. Indiana's a little removed from it. I saw the Atlantic a lot when I was in school but it's nothing like this." Sam waited giving Al a chance to say something more and looked out at the ocean as well. When Al said nothing Sam went on, "I don't think you came out here just to look at the beach. What's up, Al? You were fine one minute and then Jim said he was being deployed and…I don't know…for a second you looked like someone hit you."

"She said almost the same words to me," Al finally said softly not taking his eyes off the water.

"Who?" Sam felt as if he'd lost the thread of the conversation somewhere and had no idea who Al was talking about. He didn't think he meant Katie.

"Beth. She said almost those same words to me that your sister just said to Jim." Al finally took his eyes off the distance and turned to face Sam resting his hip against the railing. Sam adopted the same posture. "'You care about the damned Navy more than you do me.' That's almost word for word what Beth said to me when I told her I'd re-upped for a second tour in 'Nam. I think if she could have gotten away with it she would have killed me."

Sam quickly realized that he had no words to offer Al. What could he say? He had to try anyway, "I'm sure she knew you loved her." Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew how hollow they were.

Al snorted in response. "I'm not so sure, Sam. You know, I'm not so sure she wasn't right – at least for that particular moment in time. It took losing her for me to realize just how much I loved her and just how important she was. She was all I had to hang on to when I was a POW and then when I came back and found out she'd had me declared dead and remarried…I lost her again that day."

"I don't know what to say," Sam confessed.

"There isn't anything **to** say," Al assured him. "You know why we never had kids?" he asked in what seemed to be a change of subject.

"No, I don't," Sam said shaking his head.

"Because I didn't think it was a good idea. What kind of life would that be…how fair would that be to kids to get dragged from one base to another. Beth wanted them but I convinced her it was the best way – that when we were more settled it would be time." Al turned back around to stare out at the ocean. "I was wrong, Sam. If we'd had kids maybe she would have had more of a reason to wait. Maybe I wouldn't have been so quick to go back to 'Nam. At least Jim and Katie have that going for them. They're going to have that baby to tie them together."

Sam remained leaning with one hip against the railing just looking at Al. He wished he could find the right words to say to take away this pain from Al but nothing was coming to him.

After a time Al pushed away from the rail. "Hey, you're supposed to be lying down and getting rest, not standing out here with me. C'mon, let's go back in. We stay out here much longer and your mom may send out a search party for us." Al saw that Sam was still looking at him with concern and put an arm around his shoulders walking towards the door. "Hey, it's ok, Kid. It's over now – been over for a while. There's nothing any of us can do to change what happened in the past so we just have to accept it and move on."

Sam nodded and let Al lead him back into the house. Accepting what had happened wasn't something he thought Al had done – or was willing to do.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The rest of the day passed quietly for everyone. Although Sam refused to go back to bed claiming he'd already seen enough of the walls in the bedroom to last him his whole vacation, he did relent and lay down on the couch in the living room. Much to his chagrin, he kept dozing off for short periods of time.

As evening drew closer, Katie and Jim emerged from their bedroom both dressed up for a dinner out.

"Whoa! Is that my sister," Sam asked when Katie stopped by the couch he was laying on and twirled around for his inspection. "I didn't know you cleaned up so good."

In response Katie grabbed one of the throw pillows off the couch that was perpendicular to the one Sam was on and threw it at his head.

"Yep, that's my sister," Sam said laughing. "You can dress her up like a lady but underneath it all beats the heart of a tom-boy." Another pillow sailed in his direction bouncing harmlessly off his head.

"You wanna make another smart remark and go for three," Katie asked with one brow arched.

"Come on now, Hon," Jim said hugging Katie from behind. "He's sick and he's injured. I don't think it's a fair fight."

Sam did his best to put on the appropriate hurt expressed. "Yeah, I'm too weak to defend myself," he chimed in which only caused Al and Thelma to start laughing.

Katie looked to the two who were laughing and then over to her brother as he did his best to suppress his own laughter and keep his hurt puppy look firmly in place. "Well, if you're too sick for pillows there are other ways to get even." Before Sam had a chance to defend himself, she bent over him attacking his ribs and tickling him.

Sam laughed helplessly trying to fend off his sister and begging her to stop. Eventually the laughter got the best of his lungs and it turned to deep, wracking coughs. Katie immediately stopped her attack slipping an arm under Sam's shoulders and helping him to sit up straighter. "Oh Sam, I'm so sorry. I should have known better than to do that."

As soon as the cough started Al jumped up from where he'd been sitting and headed for Sam's bedroom returning a short time later with the inhaler. "Here, Sam, use this."

Sam grabbed it from Al's hands and within minutes was able to catch his breath with only a few small coughs still lingering. "It's ok, Kitty," Sam said seeing how upset his sister was and anxious to reassure her that he really was ok. "There's no harm done and it felt good to laugh like that."

Katie took his words at face value and wrapped him in a hug. "You haven't called me Kitty in years," she said when she'd released him.

Sam gave her a small half-grin. "I guess I thought you grew out of it." He glanced up at Jim who was standing just behind Katie before his gaze also took in the worried looks on his mother's face and Al's. "Hey, you better get going so you don't miss those reservations."

Jim helped Katie up to her feet. "We won't be home until late," she said. "I plan on getting all I can out of this sailor while he's on liberty." She laughed softly and let Jim escort her out of the house.

"You sure you're ok, Sam," Al asked when the door closed behind Jim and Katie. "You're not just saying that so your sister has a good time, are you?"

"No, Al, I'm not," Sam said laying back against he pillows. He rubbed lightly at his chest where he'd broken his ribs in the accident.

"Chest hurting you?" Al hadn't missed him rubbing at his chest.

"A little. Those ribs are still healing and coughing doesn't make them feel real good."

Without saying a word Thelma disappeared from the room coming back a short time later with a pill bottle in her hand as well as a glass of water. "Instead of just saying you're hurting, why don't you take one of your pain pills," she said handing the bottle over to Sam.

He reluctantly took the bottle from her turning it end over end in his hands before handing it back to her. "I'd rather not, Mom." When she looked ready to protest he hastened to add, "if it doesn't start feeling better in a little while then I'll take one. I just don't think I need it right now."

"Promise?" she asked as she put the bottle and glass down on the coffee table.

"I promise."

Fifteen minutes later Sam finally gave in reaching for the bottle and taking one of the pills in it washing it down with the glass of water. Neither Thelma nor Al said anything when he did so, just looked at him approvingly.

After taking the pain pill Sam suggested that instead of Thelma cooking something for dinner that they just order out and have something delivered. They all agreed to Chinese and when it came Sam moved from the couch to the kitchen table to eat. When they were done with dinner both Thelma and Al tried to convince Sam to go back to bed but he wouldn't agree. He'd lay down on the couch again. They ended up passing the remainder of the evening watching old movies on the TV sitting in silence and just enjoying each other's company. By 10:00, Sam started to nod off and this time when he was encouraged to go to bed he readily agreed. Al and Thelma followed him to their respective beds not too long afterwards.

xxxxxxxxxx

_He was being chased down the alley again – chased by the dead body of his closest friend. From out of no where a brick wall sprang up in front of him and he had no choice but to stop. He turned with his back pressed to the bricks and faced the gruesome sight behind him._

_Fast as lightening, the bloodied hand flashed out grabbing him just above the wrist. "Your fault. It's all your fault. I'm dead because you didn't keep your promise."_

With a muffled scream Al jerked up-right waking from the dream. "Oh God," he breathed out leaning over to bury his face in the palms of his hands. "This has to stop. I can't keep doing this."

Quietly he slipped from his bed and padded out of the room and across the house to Sam's room pushing the door open silently and slipping inside. The younger man was deeply asleep in the bed. The covers were pushed down to his waist and he lay in a boneless spawl, arms and legs taking up the whole of the bed. Moonlight coming in through the window fell across the bed giving him an eerie blue-white illumination.

Nearly on tiptoe Al quietly approached the bed and rested his hand gently on the chest of the sleeping man. As his hand barely made contact with Sam's bare flesh he watched horrified as the peacefully sleeping face in front of him morphed into a bloody visage.

Faster than he thought possible Sam's hand snaked out grabbing his wrist in a steel grasp and his body jack-knifed to a sitting position. "You killed me," he said in an eerie rasp only to be followed by a scream. "You killed me!"

Al's eyes popped open with a sharply indrawn breath. He was still in bed in the study. It had been a dream within a dream. Slowly he sat up trying to bring his breathing under control. "Why's this keep happening?" he whispered. "I know he's safe. Why's this keep happening?"

Throwing the covers off he made his way to Sam's room and pushed the door open. The moonlight coming in the window didn't fall on the bed or its occupant but it afforded Al enough light to see. Making his way over to the bed he saw Sam curled up under the blankets. There was no need to feel to see if Sam was breathing, his snores answered the question for Al.

He was just going to sit down in the armchair to spend the rest of the night by Sam's bed when a quiet voice startled him. "I thought I heard you."

Al whirled around to see Thelma coming into the room. "I didn't mean to startle you," she whispered.

"No, it's all right," Al whispered back. "I just didn't think anyone else was up."

"Didn't think anyone heard you come in here you mean," she corrected him.

Sam picked that moment to roll over and crack his eyes open. "Mom?" he sleepily questioned.

"Shh…go back to sleep, Sweetheart. Nothing's wrong," Thelma quietly said to Sam.

"'K," he breathed out before rolling over onto his stomach and hugging his pillow. He was immediately back in a deep sleep.

Sure that Sam was sleeping again, Thelma lightly rested her hand on Al's arm and gestured to the door. "Maybe we should leave so we don't wake him up again." When she saw Al hesitate she added, "You can't spend another night on that chair."

Surprised that she knew his intentions, Al let Thelma lead him out of the room.

"How did you know I slept in there last night?" he asked once they were in the hall. "Did Sam tell you?"

"No, he didn't," Thelma answered heading in the direction of the kitchen. "I just knew."

"What are you, psychic or something?" Al grumbled as he followed her into the kitchen. He watched from the doorway as she filled the kettle and put it on the stove to heat.

"Cofee?" she asked him while reaching in the cupboard to pull out a mug.

"Yeah, sure," Al answered and sat at the table.

Thelma turned from the cupboard and looked at Al, eyeing him in the dim light the fixture over the sink provided. "Maybe you want to go grab a bathrobe or something while the water heats," she suggested.

Al looked down at himself and realized that when he'd left his room earlier he only had his boxers on. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Beckett. I'll be…uh…I'll be right back." He made a hasty retreat from kitchen disappearing into the study. He appeared moments later tying the belt on his robe.

"To answer your question, no, I'm not psychic," Thelma said when he appeared in the doorway.

"Huh?"

"You asked if I knew you'd slept in Sam's room last night because I was psychic. I'm not."

"Oh. So, how'd you know then?"

Thelma quickly turned off the stove and plucked the kettle from the burner before it could whistle and wake the rest of the house. She carefully poured some into the mug she'd put on the counter and handed it over to Al who sat at the table with it. "I hope you don't mind instant, it's a lot easier to make at this time of night."

"No, instant's fine," he assured her reclaiming his seat at the table. She sat opposite him.

"I heard you last night, that's how I knew you slept in Sam's room. I recognize Katie and Jim's footsteps and Sam's as well – it's a mother's instinct. When I heard you walk into Sam's room last night I didn't quite recognize the footsteps so I assumed it had to be you. Is there something that you haven't told us, Al? Is there something else wrong with Sam and that's why you sit by him at night."

Al took a long swallow from the mug grimacing slightly when the hot liquid burnt his tongue. Looking down at the table, he ran his finger along the edge of the mug and finally answered Thelma. "There's nothing wrong with Sam. It's me."

"You? Could you explain," Thelma asked.

"I've been having some disturbing dreams – especially since Sam was released from the hospital. I keep dreaming that he died when that car hit him because I didn't do anything to prevent it." Al chose not to relate to Thelma the more gruesome aspects of the dream. There was no sense upsetting her by telling her about them when he didn't really understand them himself.

"Have you told Sam about these dreams?"

Al looked up to meet Thelma's eyes. "No. He's had enough going on without me dropping anything else on him. Maybe when he's stronger but not right now."

Thelma reached across the table resting her hands on Al's. "Al, my son is a lot stronger than you think. You should talk to him. It sounds to me like maybe you feel guilty about the accident. Talk to Sam, let him know how you feel. If you do, you won't be adding to his worries, you'll be lessening them. I know him and I know he's been worrying about you – especially if he's waking up and finding you asleep next to his bed."

"I'll think about it. I just don't want to do anything to harm him. Sam's the only family I have and I can't risk do anything that's going to hurt him."

Thelma got up from her place across from Al and took the seat next to him leaning over to rest a hand on his shoulder. "You're wrong about Sam being your only family, Al. You're a part of this whole family. Katie, Jim, and me – we consider you as much family as Sam does and don't forget that."

Al was touched by Thelma's words. He'd gotten closer to the Beckett family over the last couple of years – especially after the disastrous camping trip a few years ago that almost claimed Sam's life. It still touched him deeply to hear Thelma's words.

"Thank you for that, Ma'am," Al said pulling Thelma into a warm hug. "I will think about talking with Sam about the dreams but only if I think he's strong enough for it."

"I guess that's all I can ask of you. And remember, if you need someone to talk to I'm here."

"Thank you," Al said again. He got up from the table putting his mug in the sink. "It's late. You should really go back to bed and get some sleep. If Sam finds out I've kept you up talking two nights in a row he'll never let me hear the end of it."

"This will be our secret," Thelma assured getting up as well. "Just promise me you'll go back to your bed and get some rest too."

"I will. There's just one thing that's been bugging me," Al said leaning back against the kitchen sink and crossing his arms over his chest. "Why'd Sam call Katie 'Kitty' earlier? I've never heard him call her that."

Thelma laughed softly at Al's question. "When I was carrying Katie, Sam insisted that he wanted a cat, not a baby brother or sister. When Katie was born, he still insisted he wanted a cat and when he didn't get one he started to call his sister Kitty and would tell everyone she was his cat. At least he didn't try to put her in the rubbish like Tom did to Sam. The name ended up sticking even after John finally gave in and let Sam get a cat…actually two. Katie would never let any of the rest of us call her that, though. 'Kitty' was Sam's name for her and that was that. Sam stopped calling her Kitty after John died. It was almost as if when that happened he decided he had to bury everything from his childhood so that he couldn't get hurt."

"He still hurts a lot over his father's death, doesn't he?" Al asked.

"He still hasn't forgiven himself for not being there when John died or for being late for the funeral. At first I couldn't forgive him but I finally did when I saw what it did to him. He's never going to get over the hurt, though, until he forgives himself and I don't know how to help him do that."

"I think Sam needs to find his own way," Al offered. He pushed off from the sink heading toward the study. "I'll see you in the morning. Have a good night."

"You too, Al," Thelma answered before turning to her bedroom.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Sunday, April 1, 1990

"Where is everyone?" Sam asked walking out to join Al where he sat on the deck with a cup of coffee. He'd woken up early feeling much better than he had in several days. He'd been surprised when he made it to the bathroom to shower and back to the bedroom to finish getting dressed without anyone attempting to send him back to bed. It was only when he'd arrived in the kitchen that he realized that the reason he'd been successful was that no one was around. No one except for Al who he spied out on the deck. Grabbing a cup of coffee from the coffee maker, he went out to see what Al was up to.

Al put down his cup of coffee and folded the newspaper he'd been reading before turning to face Sam. "They went off to church a little while ago. You're looking a better today than you have been," Al said getting a good look at Sam.

"I'm feeling better," Sam agreed sitting on the deck chair near Al. He ran his finger along the edge of the coffee mug and looked out at the ocean. "Were you and Mom in my room last night?" he asked shooting a sideways look over to Al.

Al picked up his cup again and took a sip from it before he answered. "What makes you ask that?" he questioned guardedly.

Sam continued to stare out at the ocean hiding what he was thinking. "I thought I woke up for just a little while and saw the two of you. I wasn't sure if I really was awake or if I was dreaming." He took a quick drink from his own mug of coffee before looking over to Al. "So, were you there or not?"

Al debated for just a minute lying to Sam and telling him that he had been dreaming, that no one was in his room last night. Just as quickly, he dismissed the idea seeing no real point to it. He looked straight ahead to the ocean as Sam had been doing. "Yeah, we were in there last night." It was a straightforward answer to a straightforward question. Sam hadn't asked for a reason why and Al saw no need to volunteer the information.

Sam leaned over in the chair so that his elbows rested on his knees and rolled the mug back and forth between his hands. "So…uh…was I having another dream or something?" Although he asked the question of Al, he directed it to the decking under his feet.

_So much for not volunteering information_ Al thought. He should have known 'why' would be Sam's next question. He put the mug he was holding back down on the small table that separated the chairs and leaned forward mimicking Sam's posture. He let his loosely clasped hands fall between his knees as he kept looking out at the horizon's edge while he mulled over just how to answer Sam's question.

Taking Al's silence as an affirmative answer, Sam sighed and sat back in the chair slouching down. "I was, wasn't I?"

The temptation to let Sam think that Al's and Thelma's presence in his room last night had been brought on by his own nocturnal demons was very attractive to Al and he had to fight not to give in to it. He heaved a deep breath deciding that it was time to take Thelma's advice and confide in Sam about the dreams he'd been having. "You weren't dreaming last night, Sam." He didn't take his gaze off the distant horizon, squinting into the brightness of the day. "I was," he finished quietly.

"You?" Sam asked turning in Al's direction and sitting up a little straighter in the chair. "What do you mean you were dreaming?" The last thing Sam had expected was for Al to confess that it was his own dreams that had brought him to Sam's room in the dead of night.

"Yeah. I've been having a dream almost every night now since you got out of the hospital." Al didn't alter his posture. Somehow, it was easy to tell Sam what he'd been dreaming if he didn't have to look at him. He decided to just stick with the facts. They could figure out the why of it all later. "You die in it. That car hits you and you die but you come back to life and you blame me. I had to make sure you were ok last night, that you were alive." Al gave Sam a quick glance as he made the admission of his fears.

"You were making sure I was alive?" Al's remarks were obviously confusing to Sam and he was reaching out trying to make sense of whatever he could. "I just have a really bad cold and an ear infection. It's not going to kill me."

"I know it's not going to kill you," Al replied in irritation. "It's just that I keep dreaming about you lying dead in that street and bleeding and then blaming me – telling me that I killed you. When that happens, I need to see for myself that you're still breathing – to feel that you're still warm and living."

Sam's eyes narrowed as he added Al's explanation to seeing him sleeping in his room the other night. "That's why you were in my room the other night. You were making sure I was…alive?" He half stated it, half-questioned it.

Al nodded his agreement. "In here I knew it," he said pointing at his head. "In here, I had to see it and it's been like that since you got out. Almost every night I either have the dream and then check on you or I just stay awake as long as I can watching you sleep…watching you breathe."

"No wonder you've been looking so tired lately. You haven't been sleeping in the last two weeks." Sam's face suddenly looked thoughtful. As Al had thought he would, Sam was trying to figure out what the root cause of Al's dream and sleepless nights was. "You feel responsible for me. That's what's causing it. You feel like it's your fault that I got hit. Al, I thought we cleared the air on that. There's nothing you could have done. It was no one's fault but the driver of the car."

Al quickly got to his feet pacing the area of the deck in front of Sam "Hell yeah, I feel responsible for that car hitting you. More than that I feel responsible that I won't be able to stop something like that from happening again and next time you will be dead."

Sam also got up and stepped into Al's path stopping his pacing. "What makes you think this is going to happen again? It was a fluke, that's all. Just because I got hit by a car crossing the street doesn't mean it's going to happen next time I cross the street. It was an accident, Al. Just a stupid, dumb accident. Maybe I could have prevented if I'd been looking when I crossed. I don't remember much of what happened but I do know I had my head down. Maybe if I'd looked it wouldn't have happened."

"You don't understand, Sam. Maybe it wasn't an accident this time just like it wasn't the last time." Al realized to late what he'd said and turned from Sam to lean on the railing around the deck looking back out at the ocean.

Sam joined Al in leaning against the rail. "What do mean the last time? Nothing like this has ever happened before?" he asked perplexed by the Al's odd statement.

Al pinched the bridge of his nose regretting having said anything at all. He wished he could go back and change what he'd said. "In for a penny, in for a pound," he murmured almost too softly to hear. "Sit down, Sam." When Sam didn't immediately comply with his request, Al repeated it gesturing to the chairs they'd been sitting in earlier. When the younger man finally complied, although he sat tensely at the edge, Al followed suit.

"You remember that plane crash a few years ago?"

Sam snorted softly. "How could I not remember it?"

"Yeah, well, I don't think it was an accident. I think…I think someone may have been trying to kill you."

Sam blinked rapidly at Al's words trying to process what he'd heard in his mind and come up with something that made some kind of sense. It didn't work. "You think someone was trying to kill me? Why would you say something like that?"

"Because when I checked the engine it had been tampered with, that's why. Someone wanted us to go down and I think they were after you."

Sam jumped back to his feet when he heard Al's news and this time it was his turn to pace awkwardly in front of Al. "Wait a minute, you think the engine was tampered with and you're just now telling me this 2 ½ years later. What!? You didn't think someone trying to kill us…kill me… might be something I needed to know back then?"

Sam's frantic and awkward pacing worried Al, especially when he started to stumble and he got up and grabbed Sam by the elbow with the intention of leading him back to his chair. "Sam, calm down and sit down before you fall."

Sam pulled himself from Al's grasp stepping back from him until he bumped into the railing. He reached back to grasp it in both hands, his knuckles turning white with the strain. "Answer me. Why are you just telling me this now?"

Seeing that he wasn't going to get Sam to sit back down but relieved that he'd stop the pacing, Al sank back to his chair. "I didn't want to tell you when we were on the mountain because I saw no reason to give you one more thing to worry about. You were hurt – hurt bad and you didn't need that stress."

"So why didn't you tell me afterwards?"

Now was where Sam either trusted him enough to believe him or he'd think he was completely nuts. "Because the evidence that the plane had been tampered with disappeared."

"Disappeared? How does something like that disappear?"

Al sighed. He knew what he was saying sounded bizarre and unbelievable even if he did know he was telling the truth. "When they were investigating the accident the engine was fine. It was in perfect condition. I saw it myself, Sam. All the damage I'd seen before, the tampering, it was all gone."

"How, Al? How could that engine be in perfect condition? I might not have seen it but I heard that noise, whatever it was, before we went down."

"I wish to God I knew. That's why I never told you about it, Sam. Hell, the investigator thought I'd imagined it all. For a while, I started to think maybe I had. Anyway, without any evidence there to back me up I didn't think there was any need to tell you about it and just get you worried. Then this happened."

Sam sat back down next to Al. He was honestly perplexed. "Why would anyone want to kill me? I haven't done anything worth killing for and why wait 2 ½ years?

Al raised his hands helplessly. "I don't know, Sam. I just don't know. I can't shake the feeling that someone's out for you, though."

Sam leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. He leaned his forehead against his interlocked hands and thought. "Ok," he said straightening up. "Let's say someone is trying to kill me for reasons none of us can figure out. That doesn't mean you're solely responsible for me. Now that I know, maybe I can be a little more careful. Al, you can't do this anymore. You need to…you need to," he threw his hands in the air in a helpless gesture. "I don't know, forgive yourself for not being able to control something that's outside of your control."

"You're right and I know that here," Al said pointing to his head before laying his hand over his heart. "Now I need to convince myself here."

"You need to, Al," Sam fiercely said. "If you don't you're going to worry yourself sick or dead and I won't let you do that. I won't"

Al reached over to lay his hand on Sam's forearm and felt the tenseness of the muscles beneath the skin. "I'll try, Kid. Who knows. Maybe talking to you about it will help."

Sam looked searchingly at Al until he was sure the older man wasn't just trying to reassure him with empty words. "Maybe. Talking about your dreams is supposed to help – or at least that's what they say."

Al sat back in his chair and looked out to the horizon again before looking back over to Sam. It was the opening he'd been hoping for. "They do say that. Maybe you want to give it a try."

Sam snapped his head around to stare at Al. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said quickly before getting up and leaning against the railing again. He kept his back to Al.

"Don't kid a kidder, Sam," Al told him as he got up to stand beside him. "Something's going on with you. It's been going on since you saw Jamie Walters. I've got a feeling it's been going on even longer than that."

Sam shrugged off the hand that Al had rested on his shoulder. "There's nothing going on. I don't know what you're talking about." He wouldn't meet Al's gaze.

"Sa-am," Al said warningly. "Don't give me that line of crap. I saw you the other night after you had that nightmare. If that's nothing…."

"The blood," Sam whispered.

"Yeah, the blood. What was that all about?"

Sam looked down and pounded his fist gently against the railing. "I want to go for a walk on the beach," he said unexpectedly.

"Nuh uh, you're not going to change the subject."

"I won't, Al." He sat down heavily in his chair and pulled off his shoes and socks. "I'll tell you. Let's just walk, ok?"

Reluctantly, Al agreed. "It's not going to be easy walking through the loose sand," Al pointed out as they stepped off the deck.

Sam shrugged at Al's warning but started across the sand anyway. The two walked in silence until they reached the sand along the water's edge that was hard-packed and proved easier for Sam to walk on. Sam stared straight ahead and started to talk in a low voice void of inflection.

"Jamie and Tom were really close in high school. When they graduated, Tom went off to Annapolis and Jamie went to ISU but they still kept in touch…at least for a couple of years. Jamie started to get involved with anti-war protests and Tom lost touch with him after that. They didn't exactly see eye to eye anymore since Tom was going into the military.

"That first Thanksgiving after Tom died I came home from MIT. That's when Dad told us we were going to lose the farm. Jamie came over the next day. He was already in med-school and it was the first time he'd been home since Tom had died. He'd spent the summer backpacking or something. Anyway, he came over the day after Thanksgiving to give his condolences to Mom and Dad. He came out to the barn and I was alone out there."

As soon as Sam mentioned being alone in the barn until Jamie came in Al stiffened remembering when Thelma had been telling him about that Thanksgiving the other night. He didn't stay anything not wanting to stop Sam from telling him what had happened.

"I was cleaning out the stalls and I thought it was Dad coming it, but it wasn't. It was Jamie. At first, it was fine. He told me how sorry he was that Tom had died. I was angry, though. I was angry that Tom had died and Jamie was still there and I lashed out at him. I told him that maybe if he'd gone into the military instead of protesting then maybe Tom would still be alive. As irrational as it was, at that moment I blamed Jamie for Tom's death." Sam let out a humorless chuckle. "He didn't take too well to my accusation. He punched me in the face and I lost my balance. I hit the other side of my face against the wall of the stall. It stunned me and all I could do was lay there. He started yelling at me then. I didn't understand what he was saying at first. Finally, my head cleared enough that his words started to make sense. He said it was my fault that Tom had been killed because I'd supported Tom's decision to go to Annapolis and I didn't do anything to try to stop the war." Sam stopped walking but he still didn't look at Al. "He said Tom's blood was on my hands then he walked out."

Sam finally turned to look at Al and Al saw in his eyes a pain and guilt that was 20 years old. "He's right, Al. I didn't do anything to stop Tom from going to Vietnam. Maybe if I had he wouldn't have been killed. Maybe he'd still be alive. Why didn't I try, Al?"

Silent tears began to course down Sam's face. Al grabbed him by both shoulders and shook him slightly. "You were 16 years old, Sam. You were just a kid. What could you have done? It's not your fault that Tom died and you've got to stop blaming yourself for that. That bastard should have never said that to you if he were in front of me right now I'd…I'd…I don't know what I'd do but I know he'd regret what he did to you."

Sam mutely shook his head at Al, the tears coming more freely. "I didn't try, Al," he finally burst out.

Al tightened his hold and pulled Sam into an embrace. "Aw, Sam. It wasn't your fault. You gotta believe that, Kid. It was never your fault."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Al held onto Sam until the tears finally stopped. When Sam started to cough harshly, he lowered them to sit on the damp sand. "Easy, easy," Al said rubbing Sam's back in a soothing gesture. "You need to calm down."

The coughing jag went on longer than Al liked and, unfortunately, Sam didn't have his inhaler with him. Looking back over the path they'd taken, Al realized it would take longer for him to go back and get it than he felt comfortable leaving Sam alone for. Out of options, he could only sit and offer whatever reassurances he could until the coughing finally eased off.

Finally, Sam quieted down. He sagged over to the side to lean against Al, his energy having been spent. Silence reigned for the next few minutes while Al collected his thoughts. A few soft coughs punctuated the silence. Sam eventually pushed himself away and sat up on his own.

Al turned himself around so that he could face Sam. He used his hand under Sam's chin to lift the younger man's face to make eye contact with him. He kept his voice soft yet firm. "Sam, do you really think it's your fault that your brother was killed? Do you really think you could have done anything to change what happened?"

Morosely, Sam shook his head. "No, I guess not," he whispered.

"So why have you been blaming yourself all this time? Twenty years is a long time to carry around that kind of guilt."

Sam didn't answer Al right away. Instead, he started drawing patterns in the sand. When he did, finally answer he kept his voice pitched low and would look at the older man. "Because if I did then there was a reason why Tom died instead of it just being the will of fate."

Al shook his head at Sam's admission. All his life Sam had looked for the reason why things happened. It was what made him so good at his chosen profession. It also meant that sometimes he lacked the ability to just accept that sometimes there is not rational reason for why things happen, that they just do. Without any tangible answer as to why Tom died, it had become easier for Sam to place the blame on himself. "Sam, sometimes there is no reason why things happen. They just do. Tom didn't get killed because you didn't try to stop him. Tom got killed because he was in the middle of an ugly war and he ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. I know that probably sounds pretty lame to you but that's what it all boils down to. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Sam started to shake his head at Al's words. "No, there had to be something I could have done. Maybe if I'd said something when he was home he wouldn't have gone to Vietnam and he'd still be alive today."

"And maybe he would have still gone and then you're last memories of being with your brother would have been arguing with him. And what if you had convinced him not to go? What if you convinced him to run away to Canada or something? What then?"

Sam stopped drawing aimlessly in the sand and looked up to meet Al's eyes. "He'd be alive," he said firmly.

"Maybe but would he have been the same man that you knew? Think about it, Sam. You're brother chose to go to Annapolis. He chose to be in the Navy. Without even knowing him I can bet he took his duty and honor seriously. If he'd thrown all that away and run up to Canada, what would that have done to the man he was? What would that have done to the relationship you had with him? What if he resented you for making him make that choice?"

"Are you saying I was going to lose him anyway?"

Al sighed trying to find the right words. "I'm saying that it's something you don't know. I'm saying that there's always going to be things in this world that you just don't know and when that happens, you can't make it your fault. You've got some pretty broad shoulders, Kid, but you can't take everything bad that happens in the world onto them. You need to start by letting this guilt that you've been carrying around go." Al reached over to grasp Sam's shoulders and shook him slightly to be sure he had his full and undivided attention. "For God's sake, forgive yourself."

The two sat staring at each not moving as if they'd been frozen in time. After what seemed like a long stretch of time to the two men but was really only a few seconds, Sam began to nod slowly in agreement with what Al had said. "How do I start?" he asked in a small voice.

"Talk to your Mom. Talk to Katie. It's hurt them just as much as it's hurt you…maybe even more." At Sam's quizzical look, Al hastened to explain, "They didn't just lose Tom but they've also seen how it's affected you and didn't know how to help."

"I never wanted to upset, Mom. That's why I never told her. It hurt her so much when Tom died. I just never wanted to do anything that would hurt her even more."

"You're Mom's a strong lady, Sam. I think she'd surprise you just how strong she is. Tell her what happened in that barn that day. At least that way she'll understand why you wake up screaming about blood that only you can see. Give her the benefit of the doubt."

A short nod was Sam's answer.

Al looked over his shoulder in the direction of the house. He could make out movement on the deck and guess that Thelma, Katie and Jim were back. They'd probably be wondering what he and Sam were doing sitting out on the sand. "We better head back. Your mom's probably going to skin me alive for letting you go walking on the beach." Al gracefully pushed himself up from the sand, reached down to grasp Sam's arm, and helped him up. He handed him the cane and they started the trek back to the house.

As they walked, Al noticed that Jim and Katie had returned to the house but Thelma remained on the deck with her arms folded across her chest. "Uh oh. She doesn't look too happy."

Sam looked at his mother and snuck a look back over his shoulder. "You could always swim for California."

"Me? Why would I need to start swimming? I'd say it's your hide she's going to tan."

"You're the one who let me out."

Al looked from Sam over to Thelma and back to Sam. "We're both dead meat."

"Yup. Let's go face the music," Sam said with resignation.

"Just what do you think you're doing traipsing around on the beach?" Thelma asked when they were close enough to hear her. "You're supposed to be resting, not running around."

"I…uh…I wanted to go for a walk," Sam lamely explained.

As they neared the house, Thelma came down off the deck and met them in the sand. She was ready to launch into another round of chastisement when she caught sigh of Sam's face. His eyes were still red-rimmed and tears had dried in streaks on his cheeks. "Oh Sam," she said softly reaching out to cup his face in one hand. "What happened, Sweetheart?"

Sam exchanged a look with Al before drawing a deep breath. Letting it out he put his hand around his mother's waist and led her back up to the deck and into the house. "Mom, we need to talk…and Katie, too. It's long overdue."

Sensing what her son wanted to talk about, Thelma silently nodded and preceded him into the house. Al stayed out on the deck to give them whatever privacy they needed. Jim joined him a short time later.

An hour later Katie joined them on the deck. As her brother's face had been, her face was now tear-streaked. She went over to her husband seeking comfort in his arms. "Sam's lying down and Mom's sitting with him," she quietly explained.

Jim leaned down to kiss Katie on the top of her head. "You ok, Honey?" he asked in concern.

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "I will be. We all will be."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Al was swapping navy stories with Jim when Thelma came out to the deck. "He's sleeping," she announced though no one had asked her. She looked like she could use a good rest herself. In just the short time since she'd gone in the house, it seemed to Al that she'd aged. She sank wearily down onto one of the deck chairs.

"Maybe you should try to rest for a little while, Mom," Kate suggested. Like Al, she noticed the weariness with which Thelma carried herself.

Thelma shook her head slightly. "No, I don't need to lie down. I don't think I could even if I wanted to." A small smile quirked Thelma's lips but it was gone almost as fast as it came. "I don't know how he did it all these years. How he kept it all to himself."

Knowing what Thelma was referring to, Al hastened to reassure her. "He was only doing what he thought he had to in order to protect the two of you. I'm betting after a while it just came naturally to him and he didn't think about it anymore."

Katie rushed in to support what Al was saying. "You know how Sam is, Mom, if he doesn't want us to know something then that's it, he's not going to tell us."

Jim, who didn't have a clue what the others were talking about, attempted to interject his own thoughts on the matter. "Katie's' right, Mom. Look at this secret project he's been on the last couple of years. None of us have been able to get anything out of him about that." He cut his eyes quickly over to Al who was looking at him with raised eyebrows. "Well, except for you, Sir and we haven't been grilling him or anything about it. You just kind of curious, that's all. None of us would try to force him to tell us anything he wasn't supposed to especially if it was top secret and all." Jim sputtered off to silence as it seemed the more he tried to back pedal over what he said, the worse it seemed to sound and Al kept drilling him with an unrelenting stare.

Al finally broke the stare and quirked a smile of his own. "I understand perfectly, Lieutenant. I think I'm going to go in and check on Sam." Al started through the sliding glass doors into the house but stopped just as he entered and looked back to Jim. "Word of advice, Lieutenant – next time just quit while you're ahead."

"Yes, Sir. I'll remember that." Jim replied as Al went into the house.

xxxxxxxxxx

It cooler in the house, much cooler than it was outside, Al realized as he shut the sliding door behind him. He hadn't realized that the temperature had gone up while he'd been outside but now, walking into the air-conditioned house, it felt almost chilly.

He made his way back to the bedroom Sam was using and quietly pushed open the door. As Thelma had told them, Sam was sleeping. He was sprawled across the bed and Al smiled a little at the sight. If the bed had been anything smaller than the queen-sized that it was, Sam's arms would have most likely been hanging off the mattress.

As silently as possible, Al walked across the room so he was standing beside the bed and looked down at the sleeping man. Gently, he brushed his hand over Sam's forehead and relieved to find that although he was slightly warmer than normal, he wasn't really running much of a fever. He'd been worried that the events of the morning would have triggered another recurrence of the high fever.

No matter what Sam insisted, he was still far from fully recovered from the car accident, let alone the infection he'd picked up. It showed in his face how difficult the last month had been for him. He still hadn't recovered the weight he'd lost in the hospital and the shadows beneath his eyes seemed to have become permanent fixtures. Despite that, he was sleeping peacefully.

As Al watched, Sam's eyes started to dart quickly back and forth beneath his closed eyelids. He was dream. Al extended his hand again but this time didn't quite touch the slumbering man as he waited to see if the dream would develop into something unpleasant. "Give him a break," he whispered though he didn't know whom he was asking. "Just let him get some rest without being haunted."

As if in answer to his prayers, a smile broke out on Sam's face and he sighed contentedly. Al released the breath he'd been holding. "Thank you," he whispered. "That must be some dream, Kid, if you're smiling like that. I'd say it's a bout a girl but knowing you, you're probably dreaming about quarks and such."

Al stood standing by the bed for another few minutes and watched Sam. Eventually the dream ended and Sam slipped into a deeper sleep. As he did, he rolled over and curled up around his pillow.

Al took that as his cue to pull the sheet and blanket up around Sam's shoulders and tuck it in securely there. When he'd lain down, Sam might have been warm enough to keep the covers at his waist but as he slipped deeper into sleep, Al didn't want him to become chilled.

He was just settling down in the chair by the bed when the doorbell rang. The only thought Al gave to it was to glance quickly at Sam to see if it had disturbed him. Seeing that it hadn't, he settled in the armchair as he maintained a silent vigil. He realized, though, that he wasn't doing it this time to reassure himself of Sam's continued existence but, instead, because he took comfort in seeing the younger man relaxed and at rest.

Five minutes later he heard the raised voices from the other room drift back. He couldn't make out all the words but he thought he heard Sam's name a couple of times. Curious, he got up, went out the living room, and walked into what he could also term controlled chaos.

An upset Thelma was sitting at the end of one of the couches with Katie hovering over her. Jim was between Al and whoever had come in the house and looked like he was trying to urge the unwanted visitor to leave. Everyone was talking, or rather yelling, at once and Al couldn't really make out much of what anyone was saying.

Summoning up his best admiral's bellow he called out, "What the hell's going on out here."

All noise in the room ceased and everyone turned quickly to face Al. As Jim moved, Al finally caught a glimpse of who the visitor was – Jamie Walters.

"Well?" Al prompted when no one answered him.

Finally, Jamie opened his mouth to explain. "I came by to check on Sam like I said I was going to and they," he indicated Thelma and Katie, "jumped all over me like I was some kind of enemy."

"Some kind?" Thelma asked hotly getting up from the couch and approaching Jamie to stare at him face to face. "After what you did you have the gall to come into this house?"

Katie was pulling her mother from behind. "Mom, you're not supposed to get upset like this. Come sit down. He isn't worth it."

"She's right, Mrs. Beckett," Jamie calmly said. "You really shouldn't be getting upset."

"Upset? This is not upset, young man. Not by a long shot. I left 'upset' before you even got here."

"Mrs. Beckett, I don't know…" Jamie tried to cut in but Thelma talking over him stopped him and before anyone knew it, the cacophony of voices broke out again.

Al realized that as loud as it was getting it was just a matter of time before the noise reached Sam and woke him from his sleep. Acting on impulse, and not realizing his action could have the same effect; he did what came naturally to put an end to the yelling voices. "Quiet!" he bellowed.

Again, the room fell to complete, stunned silence – a silence that was broken by the soft, sleepy voice that came from behind Al. "What's goin' on out here?" Sam asked in confusion as he blinked the sleep from his eyes.

He came further into the living room and walked around Al to see what had caused the commotion and his sight fell on Jamie. "Oh, it's you," he said without inflection.

"I came by to check on you," Jamie said as he tried to brush past the still stunned Jim.

Jamie's movement was all Jim needed to jerk him out of his stunned silence as he clamped an arm around Jamie's upper arm and dragged him back. "I don't know what's going on here and right now I don't think I really care buy my wife and mother-in-law have both said they don't want you in this house so you're leaving now. You've upset this house enough." Jim's words were stern as the naval officer he was came to the fore.

Al eyed Jamie with disgust from where he stood across from him. "I think you better listen and get the hell out of here before I do something that the two of us will end up regretting. You're not welcomed by this family and I don't think you ever will be again."

Jamie arched a brow at Al. He was starting to understand what the probable cause of the confrontation was. "I don't remember you being introduced as a part of this family, Admiral."

"He may not have the Beckett name," Thelma replied quickly, "but he's very much a part of the family. You'd do well to listen to him. You're not welcome here. Jim, why don't you escort Dr. Walters out?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Jim replied and tugged Jamie to the door.

"Wait," Sam called out. "I have something for him – something I should have given him 20 years ago." Before anyone could react, Sam swung hard catching Jamie just below his right eye with his fist and sending him crashing to the floor. "You never should have said it – never. It wasn't anyone's fault. It wasn't yours and it wasn't mine. Now get the hell outta hear." Sam turned his back on Jamie effectively cutting himself off from any reply Jamie might have made.

Wordlessly, Jim pulled Jamie from the floor and escorted him out the door, slamming it shut behind him. "Anyone want to tell me what that was all about," he asked in a quiet voice as leaned back against the closed door.

"It's a long story," Katie said. She was still looking at her brother with wide-eyes. In all her life, she could never remember seeing Sam lash out at someone with such violence. He'd always been the quiet one who sought out a peaceful solution. He wasn't the type to resort to his fists. "Sam, you ok?" she asked as she approached him tentatively. She rested a hand on his shoulder and felt the tension in it.

In reply, Sam gave a short nod. "I'm ok. Why don't you take Jim outside or something and explain to him what happened. He's got a right to know."

Katie nodded and reached out a hand to her husband who took her outstretched hand and led her from the room. She couldn't resist looking back over her shoulder at her brother who still stood as still as a statue.

"That was some punch," Al said once Katie had left the room.

Sam looked over to Al and then down at his hand as he shook feeling back into it. "Yeah, I guess so." He looked over to Al again, staring in his eyes. "He's had it coming for a long time."

Al held his hands out in front of him in a gesture of not arguing. "I'm not going to disagree with you. I'd've done more to the bastard if I had my shot. I'm just surprised you went with a punch and not a flying noodle kick."

"I guess I wanted to give back as good as I got." Sam shook his hand again flexing and unflexing his fingers. "Right now I'm wishing I'd gone for the kick, though. Geez, he's got a hard head."

Thelma took that as her cue to join the discussion. She took Sam by the arm, led him to one of the couches, pushed him to sit, and sat beside him. She took his hand into hers looking at his knuckles that were already starting to show bruising. "You know how I feel about violence, Sam."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She looked up from his hand and caught his eyes. "You should have given him another one for me to make up for what he's put you through all these years."

Sam cracked a smile at his normally calm and non-violent mother expressing her wish that he'd hit Jamie again. "I'll keep that in mind if we ever meet up again." He flexed his hand again and shook it. "I think I'll stick with my feet, though, if it's all the same to you."

"I hope you never see him again. He just brings back too many bad memories for you." Thelma quickly pulled Sam into a quick hug dropping a kiss down on the top of his head. "I love you, Son." Just as quickly, she released Sam from the embrace. "Can you get an icepack from the freezer, Al?" she asked as she gently lifted Sam's hand. "Seems my son thinks he's a prize-fighter."

"Yes, Ma'am," Al answered quickly going to the freezer to get the requested ice pack. He'd been as shocked as everyone else when Sam threw the punch. He only hoped that when the adrenaline rush wore off it would still prove as cathartic for Sam as it was now and not just become one more for the list of things he regretted.

When he returned to the living room he saw that Sam had dropped back to sleep with his head leaning on Thelma's shoulder. She shrugged at Al. "One second he was awake and talking the next he just drifted off mid-word."

It seemed that the adrenaline rush had already worn off. If Sam could fall asleep so quickly, Al took at chance at guessing he was regretting his actions. He helped Thelma to lay Sam down on the couch. He placed the younger man's left hand on his chest with the icepack over his knuckles. "I think Rambo's gonna need some help cutting his food when he wakes up," he said with a smirk.

"God knows I shouldn't be happy at what Sam did, but I am. Maybe it means he's starting to forgive himself."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Friday, April 14, 1990

The days following Sam's confrontation with Jamie seemed to fly by. The excitement of the day caused a set back in his recovery and he ended up spending the rest of the day in bed as his temperature rose enough to worry the others. Al was ready to load him into the car and drive to the emergency room when the fever finally broke.

Sam spent the next day in bed as well as his body recovered the energy it had expended fighting the fever. He was disappointed that he wasn't able to go with Katie and Thelma to see Jim off. He knew how much it was hurting Katie to have her husband leave for an extended period of time and wanted to be there to support her. Both Katie and Jim assured him that it was better that he stay put and give himself a chance to get well. Al had agreed and had stayed behind to keep Sam company.

By Tuesday morning, Sam had recovered any ground he'd lost and became adamant that he was not going to let Al or Katie mollycoddle him anymore. He was more tolerant with his mother but eventually he grew weary of her fussing over him as well.

Al and Sam quickly settled into what became a morning routine for the two of them. After they'd eaten breakfast, Sam would do the first of two daily exercise sessions to strengthen and limber his leg and then they'd go for a walk along the beach. Not only did it prove beneficial for the two of them mentally as they took the time to talk about fears and worries they'd both been harboring but it also proved to be equally beneficial physically for Sam as he slowly built up more stamina.

Al also found that since talking with Sam he was sleeping better as well. He still occasionally had dreams of Sam's death but they weren't coming as frequently and although he would still wander down to Sam's room to check on him, he didn't feel compelled to sit by his side watching him breathe.

After all the stresses caused by the accident in Washington and the initial days of turmoil when they arrived in Hawaii, the remainder of the trip proved to be as beneficial and relaxing as Sam and Al had both hoped it would be. Now it was time for the visit to paradise to end. After nearly a month and a half, Sam was finally being allowed to return back to New Mexico and his project.

Katie drove them to the airport and this time Thelma came along. She may have been prevented from greeting her son there when he'd arrived but she'd made it perfectly clear she'd be there to see him off. Al was riding in the front seat with Katie and Thelma took the back with Sam. She held onto his hand for the ride reluctant to be letting him go.

"Good thing we left early," Katie remarked as she slowly crept the car along with the line of traffic. "Something's gotta be up to have traffic tied up like this."

"I hope it starts moving soon," Sam said from the back seat as he nervously checked his watch again. "I don't want to miss the flight."

The words had no sooner left Sam's mouth then traffic started to move at its regular pace again as if it had slowed down for no reason. They made it to the airport with time to spare.

Thelma and Katie accompanied the two men to their departure gate to see them off. Ten minutes after their arrival, boarding for their flight was announced. Since Sam was still having a hard time getting around well, he was again allowed to board the plane early.

As the flight was called the four rose from the seats they had taken. Thelma pulled Sam into a tight embrace. "I'm going to miss you so much," she softly said.

"I'll miss you to, Mom," Sam responded back. The sound of choked-back tears was evident in his voice.

Thelma made no attempt to stop her tears and they flowed freely down her face. Releasing his mother, Sam took a step back from her and reached out a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Don't cry, Mom. I'll be back for a visit soon."

Thelma made an attempt to brush the tears away as well. "I know you will, Sam. I just worry about you, that's all." She pulled him into another tight embrace. "You're still my baby boy and I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Mom." Pulling from the embrace, Sam framed his mother's face with his hands and kissed her on the forehead then turned to his sister. "Don't you start getting teary-eyed," he warned her as he pulled her into a hug.

"Don't worry, I won't," Katie assured him. "You just promise me you're going to be back in time to see your nephew when he's born."

Sam released Katie from the hug and looked down resting his hand gently on her stomach. "I'll be back to see this little one but how do you know it's not going to be my niece?"

"You know something I don't, Big Brother?"

"Nope, just a feeling," Sam said with a shrug. He put his arm around his sister's shoulders and felt her lean into him as he waited for Al to finish saying his goodbyes to Thelma.

"Just remember, Al," Thelma said as she held Al at arm's length from her, "you're not responsible for every bad thing that happens to my son so don't go blaming yourself…and talk to him."

"I will, Ma'am," Al promised.

Thelma pulled Al into another quick embrace. "Thank you so much for looking after him the way you have. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"You already have," Al replied. When he saw the look of confusion on her face he further explained, "You made him the man he is, the friend he is to me. That's plenty."

Pulling away from Thelma, Al grabbed up their carryon bags and let Sam precede him to the gate. Just before stepping into the jet way, they both turned to wave to the two women watching them go.

As the plane taxied down the runway and took off, Sam turned to Al, a smile on his face. "It's gonna feel good to get everything back to normal."

Al let out a little laugh. "It sure is…although I'm not so sure what normal is with you sometimes."

Sam answered with a laugh of his own and Al joined in. After the long weeks of injury, illness, and recovery, it's was the best feeling to finally see life back on track. As horrible as the experience had been, Sam would always look back on the time of his injury and recovery as a period in time that strengthened both him as a person and his ties of friendship with Al.


End file.
